i 


STRATFORD   PORTRAIT  OF  SHAKESPEARE. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS: 

VENUS  AND  ADONIS,  LUCRECE, 
SONNETS,  ETC. 


EDITED,  WITH  NOTES, 


WILLIAM  J.  ROLFE,  LITT.  D., 

EDITOR  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S  PLAYS,  SELECT  POEMS  OF  MILTON,  GRAY, 
GOLDSMITH,  WORDSWORTH,  BROWNING,  ETC. 


WITH  ENGRA  VINGS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN      SQUARE. 


ENGLISH     CLASSICS. 

EDITED  BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  LITT.  D. 

Illustrated.     i6mo,  Cloth,  56  cents  per  volume :   Paper,  40  cents  per  volume. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  WORKS. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Othello. 

Julius  Caesar. 

A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 

Macbeth. 

Hamlet. 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

As  You  Like  It. 

The  Tempest. 

Twelfth  Night. 

TTie  Winter's  Tale. 

King  John. 

Richard  II. 

Henry  IV.     Part  I. 

Henry  IV.     Part  II. 

Henry  V. 

Henry  VI.     Part  I. 

Henry  VI.     Part  II. 


Richard  III. 

Henry  VIII. 

King  Lear. 

The  Taming  of  the  Shrew. 

All  's  Well  that  Ends  Well. 

Coriolanus. 

The  Comedy  of  Errors. 

Cymbeline. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

Measure  for  Measure. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

Love's  Labour  's  Lost. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

Timon  of  Athens. 

Troilus  and  Cressida. 

Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre. 

The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 

Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  etc. 

Sonnets. 

Titus  Andronicus. 


GOLDSMITH'S*  SELECT  POEMS.  BROWNING'S  SELECT  POEMS. 

GRAvV.SitinrT  BOEMS.  ^«^  BROWNING'S  SELECT  DRAMAS. 

;  o£  J£iV  MM.TON.      MACAULAY'S  LAYS  OF  ANCIENT  ROME. 
I  .  .  J  .'  ^t)«y»woRTH's  SELECT  POEMS. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

Any  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any 
part  of  tJie  United  States,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


Copyright,  1890,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

GIFT  OP 


PREFACE. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  Poems  have  generally  received  less  attention  from 
editors  and  commentators  than  his  plays,  and  no  thoroughly  annotated 
edition  of  them  has  been  published  in  this  country.  It  has  been  my 
aim  to  treat  them  with  the  same  thoroughness  as  the  plays.  The  1599 
edition  of  Venus  and  Adonis  is  collated  for  the  first  time,  so  far  as  I 
am  aware,  though  it  was  discovered  more  than  twenty  years  ago.  Cer- 
tain of  the  recent  editors  do  not  appear  to  know  of  its  existence. 

In  The  Passionate  Pilgrim,  the  pieces  which  are  certainly  not  Shake- 
speare's are  transferred  from  the  text  to  the  Notes.  Most  of  the  others 
are  of  doubtful  authenticity,  but  I  give  Shakespeare  the  benefit — if  bene- 
fit it  be — of  the  doubt.  A  Lover's  Complaint  and  The  Phcenix  and  the 
7"urtle  are  now  generally  conceded  to  be  his. 

In  the  Sonnets,  I  have  been  under  special  obligations  to  Professor 
Dowden's  excellent  editions.  I  have  not,  however,  drawn  at  all  from 
Part  II.  of  the  Introduction  to  his  larger  edition,  which  condenses  into 
some  seventy-five  pages  the  entire  literature  of  the  Sonnets.  For  the 
critical  student  this  careful  re'sume1  answers  a  double  purpose :  as  a 
bibliography  of  the  subject,  directing  him  to  the  many  books  and  papers 
that  have  been  written  upon  the  Sonnets,  if  he  is  moved  to  read  any  or 
all  of  them;  and  as  a  compact  and  convenient  substitute  for  these  books 
and  papers,  if  he  wants  to  know  their  gist  and  substance  without  the 
drud,gery  of  wading  through  them. 

For  the  present  volume  all  portions  of  my  earlier  editions  of  Venus 
and  Adonis,  etc.  and  the  Sonnets  have  been  carefully  revised,  and  sev- 
eral pages  of  new  matter,  giving  the  substance  of  the  latest  researches — 
specially  interesting  and  important  in  the  case  of  the  Sonnets — have 
been  added  to  the  Notes. 

The  text  of  all  the  poems  is  given  without  omission  or  expurgation. 
Cambridge,  August  12,  1890. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS,  LUCRECE, 

ANDOTHER    POEMS., 
EDITED,  WITH  NOTES, 

BY 

WILLIAM   J.  ROLFE,  Lrrr.D. 

Copyright,  1883,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


By  this,  the  boy  that  by  her  side  lay  kill'd 
Was  melted  like  a  vapour  from  her  sight, 
And  in  his  blood  that  on  the  ground  lay  spill'd, 
A  purple  flower  sprung  up.  chequer' d  with  white, 
Resembling  well  his  pale  cheeks  and  the  blood 
Which  in  round  drops  upon  their  whiteness  stood. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION  TO  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS 9 

I.  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  POEMS 9 

II.  THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  POEMS 14 

III.  CRITICAL  COMMENTS  ON  THE  POEMS 16 

VENUS   AND  ADONIS 41 

THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE 81 

A   LOVER'S   COMPLAINT r43 

THE   PASSIONATE   PILGRIM 156 

THE   PHCENIX   AND   THE   TURTLE 163 

NOTES 9 ...„...<,„....  167 


VENUS  GENETRIX. 


THE    DEATH    OF    LUCRECE. 


INTRODUCTION 


SHAKESPEARE'S    POEMS. 


I.   THE    HISTORY   OF   THE    POEMS. 

Venus  and  Adonis  was  first  published  in  quarto  form,  in 
1593, with  the  following  title-page:^ 

VENVS  |  AND  ADONIS  |  Villa  miretur  vulgus :  mihi  flauus 
Apollo  |  Pocula  Castalia  plena  ministret  aqua.  \  LONDON  | 
Imprinted  by  Richard  Field,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  |  the 
signe  of  the  white  Greyhound  in  |  Paules  Church-yard.  | 
1593- 

*  For  this  title-page,  as  well  as  for  much  of  the  other  information  we 
have  given  concerning  the  early  editions,  we  are  indebted  to  the  "  Cam- 
bridge "  ed. 


I0  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

The  book  is  printed  with  remarkable  accuracy,  doubtless 
from  the  author's  manuscript. 

A  second  quarto  edition  was  published  in  1594,  the  title- 
page  of  which  differs  from  that  of  the  first  only  in  the  date. 

A  third  edition  in  octavo  form  (like  all  the  subsequent 
editions)  was  issued  in  1596  from  the  same  printing-office 
"for  lohn  Harison." 

A  fourth  edition  was  published  in  1599,  with  the  following 
title-page  (as  given  in  Edmonds's  reprint)  : 

VENVS  |  AND  ADONIS.  |  Villa  miretur  vidgus :  mihi 
flauus  Apollo  |  Pocula  Castalia  plena  minis  fret  aqua.  \  Im- 
printed at  London  for  William  Leake,  dwel-  |  ling  in  Paules 
Churchyard  at  the  signe  of  |  the  Greyhound.  1599. 

This  edition  was  not  known  until  1867,  when  a  copy  of  it 
was  discovered  at  Lamport  Hall  in  Northamptonshire  by 
Mr.  Charles  Edmonds,  who  issued  a  fac-simile  reprint  of  it 
in  1870.  Of  course  it  is  not  included  in  the  collation  of  the 
Cambridge  ed.,  which  was  published  before  the  discovery  ;* 
but  it  was  evidently  printed  from  the  3d  edition.  Mr.  Ed- 
monds says :  "  A  few  corrections  are  introduced,  but  they 
bear  no  proportion  to  the  misprints.'7 

Of  the  fifth  edition  a  single  copy  is  in  existence  (in  the 
Bodleian  Library),  lacking  the  title-page,  which  has  been 
restored  in  manuscript  with  the  following  imprint:  "  LON- 
DON |  Printed  by  I.  H.  |  for  lohn  Harrison  |  1600."  The 
date  may  be  right,  but,  according  to  Halliwell  t  and  Edmonds, 
the  publisher's  name  must  be  wrong,  as  Harrison  had  as- 
signed the  copyright  to  Leake  four  years  previous.  The 
Cambridge  editors  assumed  in  1866  that  this  edition- (the 
4th  of  their  numbering)  was  printed  from  that  of  1596;  but 
it  is  certain,  since  the  discovery  of  the  1599  ed.,  that  it 
must  have  been  based  on  that.  Of  the  text  they  say:  "It 

*  It  is  omitted  by  Hudson  in  his  "  Harvard"  ed.  (see  account  of  early 
eds.  of  K  and  A.  vol.  xix.  p.  279),  published  in  1881. 

t  Outlines  of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare  (2d  ed.  1882),  p.  222. 


INTRODUCTION.  n 

contains  many  erroneous  readings,  due,  it  would  seem, 
partly  to  carelessness  and  partly  to  wilful  alteration,  which 
were  repeated  in  later  eds." 

Two  new  editions  were  issued  in  1602,  and  others  in  1617 
and  1620.  In  1627,  an  edition,  (of  which  the  only  known 
copy  is  in  the  British  Museum)  was  published  in  Edinburgh. 
In  the  Bodleian  Library  there  is  a  unique  copy  of  an  edi- 
tion wanting  the  title-page  but  catalogued  with  the  date 
1630;  also  a  copy  of  another  edition,  published  in  1630 
(discovered  since  the  Cambridge  ed.  appeared).*  A  thir- 
teenth edition  was  printed  in  1636,  "to  be  sold  by  Francis 
Coules  in  the  Old  Baily  without  Newgate." 

The  first  edition  of  Lucrece  was  published  in  quarto  in 
1594,  with  the  following  title-page: 

LVCRECE.  |  LONDON.  |  Printed  by  Richard  Field,  for 
lohn  Harrison,  and  are  |  to  be  sold  at  the  signe  of  the 
white  Greyhound  j  in  Paules  Churh-yard.  1594. 

The  running  title  is  "The  Rape  of  Lvcrece."  The  Bod- 
leian Library  has  two  copies  of  this  edition  which  differ  in 
some  important  readings,  indicating  that  it  was  corrected 
while  passing  through  the  press.  f« 

A  second  edition  appeared  in  1598,  a  third  in  1600,  and 
a  fourth  in  1607,  all  in  octavo  and  all  "  for  lohn  Harrison  " 
(or  "  Harison  "). 

In  1616,  the  year  of  Shakespeare's  death,  the  poem  was 
reprinted  with  his  name  as  "newly  revised/'  but  "as  the 
readings  are  generally  inferior  to  those  of  the  earlier  edi- 
tions, there  is  no  reason  for  attaching  any  importance  to 
an  assertion  which  was  merely  intended  to  allure  purchas- 
ers "  (Camb.  ed.).  The  title-page  of  this  edition  reads  thus  : 

*  Bibliographical  Contributions,  edited  by  J.  Winsor,  Librarian  of  Har- 
vard University  :  No.  2.  Shakespeare's  Poems  (1879).  This  Bibliography 
of  the  earlier  editions  of  the  Poems  contains  much  valuable  and  curious 
information  concerning  their  history,  the  extant  copies,  reprints,  etc. 

t  On  variations  of  this  kind  in  the  early  editions,  cf.  The  Two  NobU 
Kinsmen,  p.  10. 


j2  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

THE  |  RAPE  |  OF  |  LYCRECE.  \  By  |  Mr  William 
Shakespeare.  \  Newly  Reuised.  |  LONDON:  |  Printed  by  T. 
S.  for  Roger  Jackson,  and  are  |  to  be  solde  at  his  shop  neere 
the  Conduit  |  in  Fleet-street.  1616. 

A  sixth  edition,  also  printed  for  Jackson,  was  issued  in 
1624. 

The  fifth  and  sixth  editions  differ  considerably  in  their 
readings  from  the  first  four,  in  which  there  are  no  important 
variations. 

A  Lover's  Complaint  was  first  printed,  so  far  as  we  know, 
in  the  first  edition  of  the  Sonnets,  which  appeared  in  1609. 
It  was  probably  not  reprinted  until  it  was  included  in  the 
Poems  of  1640,  mentioned  below. 

The  Passionate  Pilgrim  was  first  published  in  1599,  with 
the  following  title-page  : 

THE  |  PASSIONATE  |  PILGRIME.  |  By  W.Shakespeare. 
|  AT  LONDON  \  Printed  for  W.  laggard,  and  are  |  to  be 
sold  by  W.  Leake,  at  the  Grey-  |  hound  in  Paules  Church- 
yard. |  1599. 

In  the  middle  of  sheet  C  is  a  second  title : 

SONNETS  |  To  sundry  notes  of  Musicke.  |  AT  LON- 
DON |  Printed  for  W.  laggard,  and  are  |  to  be  sold  by  W. 
Leake,  at  the  Grey-  |  hound  in  Paules  Churchyard.  |  1599. 

The  book  was  reprinted  in  1612,  together  with  some  po- 
ems by  Thomas  Heywood,  the  whole  being  attributed  to 
Shakespeare.  The  title  at  first  stood  thus  : 

THE  |  PASSIONATE  |  PILGRIME.  |  or  |  Certaine 
Amorous  Sonnets,  \  betweene  Venus  and  Adonis,  |  newly 
corrected  and  aug-  \  mented.  |  By  W.  Shakespere.  \  The  third 
Edition.  |  Whereunto  is  newly  ad-  |  ded  two  Loue-Epistles, 
the  first  |  from  Paris  to  Hellen,  and  |  Hellens  an s were  backe  | 
again e  to  Paris.  \  Printed  by  W.  laggard.  |  1612. 

The  Bodleian  copy  of  this  edition  contains  the  following 
note  by  Malone :  "  All  the  poems  from  Sig.  D.  5  were  writ- 
ten by  Thomas  Heywood,  who  was  so  offended  at  Jaggard 


INTRODUCTION.  !3 

for  printing  them  under  the  name  of-  Shakespeare  that  he 
has  added  a  postscript  to  his  Apology  for  Actors,  4to,  1612, 
on  this  subject ;  and  Jaggard  in  consequence  of  it  appears 
to  have  printed  a  new  title-page  to  please  Heywood,  with- 
out the  name  of  Shakespeare  in  it.  The  former  title-page 
was  no  doubt  intended  to  be  cancelled,  but  by  some  inad- 
vertence they  were  both  prefixed  to  this  copy  and  I  have 
retained  them  as  a  curiosity."  The  corrected  title-page  is 
substantially  as  above,  omitting  "  By  W.  Shakespere" 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  is  called  the  third  edition  ; 
but  no  other  between  1599  and  1612  is  known  to  exist. 

In  1640  most  of  the  Sonnets  (see  our  ed.  p.  10),  The  Pas- 
sionate Pilgrim,  A  Lover's  Complaint,  The  Phoenix  and  the 
Turtle,  the  lines  "Why  should  this  a  desert  be,"  etc.  (A.  Y. 
L.  iii.  2.  133  fol.),  and  "Take,  O  take  those  lips  away,"  etc. 
{M*  for  M.  iv.  i.  i  fol.),  with  some  translations  from  Ovid 
falsely  ascribed  to  Shakespeare  (see  p.  215  below),  were  pub- 
lished in  a  volume  with  the  following  title : 

POEMS :  |  WRITTEN  |  BY  |  WIL.  SHAKE-SPEARE.  |  Gent,  j 
Printed  at  London  by  Tho.  Cotes,  and  are  |  to  be  sold  by 
lohn  Benson,  dwelling  in  |  Sfc.  Dunstans  Church-yard.  1640. 

The  first  complete  edition  of  Shakespeare's  Poems,  in- 
cluding the  Sonnets,  was  issued  (according  to  Lowndes, 
Bibliographer's  Manual]  in  1709,  with  the  following  title  : 

A  Collection  of  Poems,  in  Two  Volumes  ;  Being  all  the 
Miscellanies  of  Mr.  William  Shakespeare,  which  were  Pub- 
lish'd  by  himself  in  the  Year  1609,  and  now  correctly  Print- 
ed from  those  Editions.  The  First  Volume  contains,  I.  VE- 
NUS AND  ADONIS.  II.  The  Rape  of  LUCRECE.  III.  The 
Passionate  Pilgrim.  IV.  Some  Sonnets  set  to  sundry  Notes 
of  Musick.  The  Second  Volume  contains  One  Hundred  and 
Fifty  Four  Sonnets,  all  of  them  in  Praise  of  his  Mistress.  II. 
A  Lover's  Complaint  of  his  Angry  Mistress.  LONDON: 
Printed  for  Bernard  Lintott,  at  the  Cross-Keys,  between  the 
Two  Temple-Gates  in  Fleet-street 


14  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

The  Phoenix  and  the  Turtle  first  appeared,  with  Shake- 
speare's name  appended  to  it,  in  Robert  Chester's  Loves 
Martyr :  or  Rosalins  Complaint,  published  in  1601  (reprint- 
ed by  the  New  Shakspere  Society  in  1878). 

The  earliest  reference  to  the  Venus  and  Adonis  thaWias 
been  found  is  in  the  famous  passage  in  Meres's  Palladis 
Tamia  (see  M.  N.  D.  p.  9,  and  C.  of  E.  p.  101).  As  to  the 
date  of  its  composition,  Dowden  says  (Primer,  p.  81) :  " \Vhen 
Venus  and  Adonis  appeared,  Shakspere  was  twenty-nine  years 
of  age  ;  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  to  whom  it  was  dedicated, 
was  not  yet  twenty.  In  the  dedication  the  poet  speaks  of 
these  'unpolisht  lines'  as  'the  first  heire  of  my  invention.' 
Did  Shakspere  mean  by  this  that  Venus  and  Adonis  was  writ- 
ten before  any  of  his  plays,  or  before  any  plays  that  were 
strictly  original — his  own  '  invention  ?'  or  does  he,  setting 
plays  altogether  apart,  which  were  not  looked  upon  as  liter- 
ature, in  a  high  sense  of  the  word,  call  it  his  first  poem  be- 
cause he  had  written  no  earlier  narrative  or  lyrical  verse? 
We  cannot  be  sure.  It  is  possible,  but  not  likely,  that  he 
may  have  written  this  poem  before  he  left  Stratford,  and 
have  brought  it  up  with  him  to  London.  More  probably  it 
was  written  in  London,  and  perhaps  not  long  before  it's  pub- 
lication. The  year  1593,  in  which  the  poem  appeared,  was  a 
year  of  plague  ;  the  London  theatres  were  closed  :  it  may  be 
that  Shakspere,  idle  in  London,  or  having  returned  for  a  while 
to  Stratford,  then  wrote  the  poem."  Even  if  begun  some 
years  earlier,  it  was  probably  revised  not  long  before  its 
publication. 

The  Lucrece  was  not  improbably  the  "graver  labour" 
promised  in  the  dedication  of  the  Venus  and  Adonis ;  and, 
as  Dowden  remarks,  it  "exhibits  far  less  immaturity  than 
does  the  'first  heire'  of  Shakspere's  invention."  It  is  less 
likely  than  that,  we  think,  to  have  been  a  youthful  produc- 
tion taken  up  and  elaborated  at  a  later  date. 

A  Lover's  Complaint  was  evidently  written  long  after  the 


INTRODUCTION-.  2g 

Lucrece,  but  we  have  no  means  of  fixing  the  time  with  any 
precision. 

The  Shakespearian  poems  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  were 
of  course  written  before  1599,  when  the  collection  was  pub- 
lished. The  three  taken  from  Love's  Labour 's  Lost  must  be 
as  early  as  the  date  of  that  play  (see  our  ed.  p.  10).  If  the 
Venus  and  Adonis  sonnets  are  Shakespeare's,  they  may  have 
been  experiments  on  the  subject  before  writing  the  long 
poem ;  but  Furnivall  says  that  they  are  "  so  much  easier  in 
flow  and  lighter  in  handling"  that  h'e  cannot  suppose  them 
to  be  earlier  than  the  poem. 

The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle  is  almost  certainly  Shake- 
speare's, and  must  have  been  written  before  1601. 

II.  THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  POEMS. 

The  story  of  the  Venus  and  Adonis  was  doubtless  taken 
from  Ovid's  Metamorphoses •,  which  had  been  translated  by 
Golding  in  1567.  Shakespeare  was  probably  acquainted 
with  this  translation  at  the  time  of  the  composition  of  The 
Tempest  (see  our  ed.  p.  139,  note  on  Ye  elves,  etc.) ;  but  we 
have  no  clear  evidence  that  he  made  use  of  it  in  writing 
Venus  and  Adonis.  He  does  not  follow  Ovid  very  closely. 
That  poet  "  relates,  shortly,  that  Venus,  accidentally  wound- 
ed by  an  arrow  of  Cupid's,  falls  in  love  with  the  beauteous 
Adonis,  leaves  her  favourite  haunts  and  the  skies  for  him, 
and  follows  him  in  his  huntings  over  mountains  and  bushy 
rocks,  and  through  woods.  She  warns  him  against  wild 
boars  and  lions.  She  and  he  lie  down  in  the  shade  on  the 
grass — he  without  pressure  on  her  part ;  and  there,  with  her 
bosom  on  his,  she  tells  him,  with  kisses,*  the  story  of  how 
she  helped  Hippomenes  to  win  the  swift-footed  Atalanta, 
and  then,  because  he  was  ungrateful  to  her  (Venus),  she 
excited  him  and  his  wife  to  defile  a  sanctuary  by  a  forbidden 

*  "  And,  in  her  tale,  she  bussed  him  among." — A.  Golding.  Ovid's 
Afet.,  leaf  129  bk.,  ed.  1602. 


T6  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

act,  for  which  they  were  both  turned  into  lions.  With  a  final 
warning  against  wild  beasts,  Venus  leaves  Adonis.  He  then 
hunts  a  boar,  and  gets  his  death-wound  from  it.  Venus 
comes  down  to  see  him  die,  and  turns  his  blood  into  a  flow- 
er—  the  anemone,  or  wind-flower,  short-lived,  because  the 
winds  (anemoi),  which  give  it  its  name,  beat  it  down,*  so 
slender  is  it.  Other  authors  give  Venus  the  enjoyment 
which  Ovid  and  Shakspere  deny  her,  and  bring  Adonis  back 
from  Hades  to  be  with  her  "  (Furnivall). 

The  main  incidents  of  the  Lucrece  were  doubtless  familiar 
to  Shakespeare  from  his  school-days  ;  and  they  had  been  used 
again  and  again  in  poetry  and  prose.  "  Chaucer  had,  in  his 
Legends  of  Good  Women  (A.D.  1386  ?),  told  the  story  of  Lu- 
crece, after  those  of  Cleopatra,  Dido,  Thisbe,  Ypsiphile,  and 
Medea, '  As  saythe  Ovyde  and  Titus  Ly vyus  '  (Ovid's  Fasti, 
bk.  ii.  741 ;  Livy,  bk.  i.  ch.  57,  58):  the  story  is  also  told 
by  Dionysius  Halicarnassensis,  bk.  iv.  ch.  72,  and  by  Dio- 
dorus  Siculus,  Dio  Cassius,  and  Valerius  Maximus.  In  Eng- 
lish it  is  besides  in  Lydgate's  Falles  of  Princes,  bk.  iii.  ch.  5, 
and  in  Wm.  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure,  1567,  vol.  i.  fol.  5-7, 
where  the  story  is  very  shortly  told :  the  heading  is  '  Sextus 
Tarquinius  ravisheth  Lucrece,  who  bewailyng  the  losse  of  her 
chastitie,  killeth  her  self.'  I  cannot  find  the  story  in  the 
Rouen  edition,  1603,  of  Boaistuau  and  Belleforest's  Histoires 
Tragiques,  7  vols.  121110;  or  the  Lucca  edition,  1554,  of  the 
Novelle  of  Bandello,  3  parts  ;  or  the  Lyons  edition,  1573,  of 
the  Fourth  Part.  Painter's  short  Lucrece  must  have  been 
taken  by  himself  from  one  of  the  Latin  authors  he  cites  as 
his  originals  at  the  end  of  his  preface.  In  1568,  was  entered 
on  the  Stat.  Reg.  A,  If.  174,  a  receipt  for  4^.  from  Jn.  Aide 
4  for  his  lycense  for  prynting  of  a  ballett,  the  grevious  com- 
playnt  of  Lucrece^  (Arber's  Transcript,  i.  379)  ;  and  in  1570 
the  like  from  '  James  Robertes,  for  his  lycense  for  the  prynt- 

*  Pliny  (bk.  i.  c.  23)  says  it  never  opens  but  when  the  wind  is  blow- 
ing. 


INTRODUCTION.  ^ 

inge  of  a  ballett  intituled  The  Death  of  Lucryssia*  (Arber's 
Transcript^  i.  416).  Another  ballad  of  the  legend  of  Lu- 
crece  was  also  printed  in  1576,  says  Warton.  (Far.  Shak- 
speare,  xx.  100.)  Chaucer's  simple,  short  telling  of  the  story 
in  206  lines — of  which  95  are  taken  up  with  the  visit  of 
Collatyne  and  Tarquynyus  to  Rome,  before  Shakspere's 
start  with  Tarquin's  journey  thither  alone  —  cannot  of 
course  compare  with  Shakspere's  rich  and  elaborate  poem 
of  1855  lines,  though,  had  the  latter  had  more  of  the  ear- 
lier maker's  brevity,  it  would  have  attained  greater  fame  " 
(Furnivall). 

III.    CRITICAL   COMMENTS    ON    THE   POEMS. 
[From  Knighfs  "Pictorial  Shakspere."  *] 

"  If  the  first  heir  of  my  invention  prove  deformed,  I  shall 
be  sorry  it  had  so  noble  a  godfather."  These  are  the  words 
which,  in  relation  to  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  Shakspere  ad- 
dressed, in  ^593,  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton.  Are  we  to 
accept  them  literally?  Was  the  Venus  and  Adonis  the  first 
production  of  Shakspere's  imagination  ?  Or  did  he  put  out 
of  his  view  those  dramatic  performances  which  he  had  then 
unquestionably  produced,  in  deference  to  the  critical  opin- 
ions which  regarded  plays  as  works  not  belonging  to  "  inven- 
tion "  ?  We  think  that  he  used  the  words  in  a  literal  sense. 
We  regard  the  Venus  and  Adonis  as  the  production  of  a  very 
young  man,  improved,  perhaps,  considerably  in  the  interval 
between  its  first  composition  and  its  publication,  but  distin- 
guished by  peculiarities  which  belong  to  the  wild  luxuriance 
of  youthful  power, — such  power,  however,  as  few  besides 
Shakspere  have  ever  possessed. 

A  deep  thinker  and  eloquent  writer,  Julius  Charles  Hare, 
thus  describes  "the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,"  as  applied  to 
poetry  : 

"  The  might  of  the  imagination  is  manifested  by  its  launch- 
*  Vol.  ii.  of  Tragedies^  etc.,  p.  509  fol. 


X8  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

ing  forth  from  the  petty  creek,  where  the  accidents  of  birth 
moored  it,  into  the  wide  ocean  of  being, — by  its  going  abroad 
into  the  world  around,  passing  into  whatever  it  meets  with, 
animating  it,  and  becoming  one  with  it.  This  complete  union 
and  identification  of  the  poet  with  his  poem, — this  suppres- 
sion of  his  own  individual  insulated  consciousness,  with  its 
narrowness  of  thought  and  pettiness  of  feeling, — is  what  we 
admire  in  the  great  masters  of  that  which  for  this  reason  we 
justly  call  classical  poetry,  as  representing  that  which  is 
symbolical  and  universal,  not  that  which  is  merely  occasional 
and  peculiar.  This  gives  them  that  majestic  calmness  which 
still  breathes  upon  us  from  the  statues  of  their  gods.  This 
invests  their  works  with  that  lucid  transparent  atmosphere 
wherein  every  form  stands  out  in  perfect  definiteness  and 
distinctness,  only  beautified  by  the  distance  which  idealizes 
it.  This  has  delivered  those  works  from  the  casualties  of 
time  and  space,  and  has  lifted  them  up  like  stars  into  the 
pure  firmament  of  thought,  so  that  they  do  not  shine  on  one 
spot  alone,  nor  fade  like  earthly  flowers,  but  journey  on 
from  clime  to  clime,  shedding  the  light  of  beauty  on  genera- 
tion after  generation.  The  same  quality,  amounting  to  a  to- 
tal extinction  of  his  own  selfish  being,  so  that  his  spirit  be- 
came a  mighty  organ  through  which  Nature  gave  utterance 
to  the  full  diapason  of  her  notes,  is  what  we  wonder  at  in 
our  own  great  dramatist,  and  is  the  groundwork  of  all  his 
other  powers  :  for  it  is  only  when  purged  of  selfishness  that 
the  intellect  becomes  fitted  for  receiving  the  inspirations  of 
genius."* 

What  Mr.  Hare  so  justly  considers  as  the  great  moving 
principle  of  "classical  poetry," — what  he  further  notes  as 
the  pre-eminent  characteristic  of  aour  own  great  drama- 
tist,"— is  abundantly  found  in  that  great  dramatist's  earliest 
work.  Coleridge  was  the  first  to  point  out  this  pervading 

*  The  Victory  of  Faith  ;  and  other  Sermons,  by  Julius  Charles  Hare, 
M.A.  (1840),  p.  277. 


INTRODUCTION.  !9 

quality  in  the  Venus  and  Adonis ;  and  he  has  done  this 
so  admirably  that  it  would  be  profanation  were  we  to 
attempt  to  elucidate  the  point  in  any  other  than  his  own 
words  : 

"  It  is  throughout  as  if  a  superior  spirit,  more  intuitive, 
more  intimately  conscious,  even  than  the  characters  them- 
selves, not  only  of  every  outward  look  and  act,  but  of  the 
flux  and  reflux  of  the  mind  in  all  its  subtlest  thoughts  and 
feelings,  were  placing  the  whole  before  our  view;  himself 
meanwhile  unparticipating  in  the  passions,  and  actuated 
only  by  that  pleasurable  excitement  which  had  resulted  from 
the  energetic  fervour  of  his  own  spirit  in  so  vividly  exhibit- 
ing what  it  had  so  accurately  and  profoundly  contemplated. 
I  think  I  should  have  conjectured  from'  these  poems  that 
even  then  the  great  instinct  which  impelled  the  poet  to  the 
drama  was  secretly  working  in  him,  prompting  him  by  a  se- 
ries and  never-broken  chain  of  imagery,  always  vivid,  and, 
because  unbroken,  often  minute — by  the  highest  effort  of  the 
picturesque  in  words  of  which  words  are  capable,  higher 
perhaps  than  was  ever  realized  by  any  other  poet,  even 
Dante  not  excepted — to  provide  a  substitute  for  that  visual 
language,  that  constant  intervention  and  running  comment 
by  tone,  look,  and  gesture,  which  in  his  dramatic  works  he 
was  entitled  to  expect  from  the  players.  His  Venus  and 
Adonis  seem  at  once  the  characters  themselves,  and  the 
whole  representation  of  those  characters  by  the  most  con- 
summate actors.  You  seem  to  be  told  nothing,  but  to  see 
and  hear  everything.  Hence  it  is,  that,  from  the  perpetual 
activity  of  attention  required  on  the  part  of  the  reader, — 
from  the  rapid  flow,  the  quick  change,  and  the  playful  nature 
of  the  thoughts  and  images, — and,  above  all,  from  the  alien- 
ation, and,  if  I  may  hazard  such  an  expression,  the  utter 
aloofness  of  the  poet's  own  feelings  from  those  of  which  he  is 
at  once  the  painter  and  the  analyst, — that  though  the  very 
subject  cannot  but  detract  from  the  pleasure  of  a  delicate 


20  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

mind,  yet  never  was  poem  less  dangerous  on  a  moral  ac- 
count."* 

Coleridge,  in  the  preceding  chapter  of  his  Literary  Life, 
says :  "  During  the  first  year  that  Mr.  Wordsworth  and  I 
were  neighbours,  our  conversations  turned  frequently  on  the 
two  cardinal  points  of  poetry — the  power  of  exciting  the 
sympathy  of  the  reader  by  a  faithful  adherence  to  the  truth 
of  nature,  and  the  power  of  giving  the  interest  of  novelty  by 
the  modifying  colours  of  imagination."  In  Coleridge's  Lit- 
erary Remains  the  Venus  and  Adonis  is  cited  as  furnishing 
a  signal  example  of  "that  affectionate  love  of  nature  and 
natural  objects,  without  which  no  man  could  have  observed 
so  steadily,  or  painted  so  truly  and  passionately,  the  very 
minutest  beauties  of  the  external  world."  The  description 
of  the  hare-hunt  is  there  given  at  length  as  a  specimen  of 
this  power.  A  remarkable  proof  of  the  completeness  as  well 
as  accuracy  of  Shakspere's  description  lately  presented  itself 
to  our  mind,  in  running  through  a  little  volume,  full  of  tal- 
ent, published  in  1825 — Essays  and  Sketches  of  Character,  by 
the  late  Richard  Ayton,  Esq.  There  is  a  paper  on  hunting, 
and  especially  on  hare-hunting.  He  says  :  "  I  am  not  one 
of  the  perfect  fox-hunters  of  these  realms  ;  but  having  been 
in  the  way  of  late  of  seeing  a  good  deal  of  various  modes  of 
hunting,  I  would,  for  the  benefit  of  the  uninitiated,  set  down 
the  results  of  my  observations."  In  this  matter  he  writes  with 
a  perfect  unconsciousness  that  he  is  describing  what  any  one 
has  described  before  ;  but  as  accurate  an  observer  had  been 
before  him : 

"  She  (the  hare)  generally  returns  to  the  seat  from  which 
she  was  put  up,  running,  as  all  the  world  knows,  in  a  circle, 
or  something  sometimes  like  it,  we  had  better  say,  that  we 
may  keep  on  good  terms  with  the  mathematical.  At  start- 
ing, she  tears  away  at  her  utmost  speed  for  a  mile  or  more, 
and  distances  the  dogs  half-way  :  she  then  returns,  diverging 
*  Biographia  Liter  aria,  1817,  vol.  ii.  p.  15. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

a  little  to  the  right  or  left,  that  she  may  not  run  into  the 
mouths  of  her  enemies  —  a  necessity  which  accounts  for 
what  we  call  the  circularity  of  her  course.  Her  flight  from 
home  is  direct  and  precipitate  ;  but  on  her  way  back,  when 
she  has  gained  a  little  time  for  consideration  and  strata- 
gem, she  describes  a  curious  labyrinth  of  short  turnings  and 
windings,  as  if  to  perplex  the  dogs  by  the  intricacy  of  her 
track." 

Compare  this  with  Shakspere  : 

"And  when  thou  hast  on  foot  the  purblind  hare, 
Mark  the  poor  wretch,  to  overshoot  his  troubles, 
How  he  outruns  the  wind,  and  with  what  care 
He  cranks  and  crosses,  with  a  thousand  doubles  : 

The  many  musits  through  the  which  he  goes 

Are  like  a  labyrinth  to  amaze  his  foes." 

Mr.  Ayton  thus  goes  on  : 

"The  hounds,  whom  we  left  in  full  cry,  continue  their  mu- 
sic without  remission  as  long  as  they  are  faithful  to  the  scent ; 
as  a  summons,  it  should  seem,  like  the  seaman's  cry,  to  pull 
together,  or  keep  together,  and  it  is  a  certain  proof  to  them- 
selves and  their  followers  that  they  are  in  the  right  way. 
On  the  instant  that  they  are  '  at  fault,'  or  lose  the  scent,  they 
are  silent.  .  .  .  The  weather,  in  its  impression  on  the  scent, 
is  the  great  father  of  'faults  ;'  but  they  may  arise  from  other 
accidents,  even  when  the  day  is  in  every  respect  favourable. 
The  intervention  of  ploughed  land,  on  which  the  scent  soon 
cools  or  evaporates,  is  at  least  perilous;  but  sheep-stains, 
recently  left  by  a  flock,  are  fatal :  they  cut  off  the  scent  irre- 
coverably— making  a  gap,  as  it  were,  in  the  clue,  in  which 
the  dogs  have  not  even  a  hint  for  their  guidance." 

Compare  Shakspere  again  : 

"  Sometime  he  runs  among  a  flock  of  sheep, 
To  make  the  cunning  hounds  mistake  their  smell. 
And  sometime  where  earth-delving  conies  keep, 
To  stop  the  loud  pursuers  in  their  yell ; 


aa  SffAATASrEAWS  POEMS. 

And  sometime  sorteth  with  a  herd  of  deer ; 
jtl  ileviseih  shins  ;  \vit  w.iits  on  fear; 

there  his  smell  with  others  being  mingled, 
The  hot  scent-snuffing  hounds  are  driven  to  doubt, 
Ceasing  their  cl.unounis  cry  till  they  have  singled 
\\  to  the  cold  fault  cleanly  out; 

Then  do  they  spend  their  mouths :  Echo  replies, 

As  if  another  chase  were  in  the  skies," 

• 

One  more  extract  from  Mr.  Ayton : 

**  Suppose  then,  after  the  usual  rounds,  that  you  see  the 
hare  at  last  (a  sorry  mark  for  so  many  foes)  sorely  beleaguered 
— looking  dark  and  draggled — and  limping  heavily  along; 
then  stopping  to  listen — a^ain  tottering  on  a  little — and 
stopping ;  and  at  every  step,  and  every  pause,  hearing 
the  death-cry  grow  nearer  and  louden" 

One  more  comparison,  and  we  have  exhausted  Shak- 
spere's  description :— 

"By  this,  poor  Wat,  far  off  upon  a  hill, 
Stands  on  his  hinder  legs  with  listening  ear, 
To  hearken  if  his  foes  pursue  him  still ; 
Anon  their  loud  alarums  he  doth  hear ; 
And  now  his  grief  may  be  compared  well 
To  one  sore  sick  that  hears  the  passing-bell. 
"Then  shalt  thou  see  the  dew-bedabbled  wretch 
Turn  and  return,  indenting  with  the  way ; 

envious  briar  his  weary  legs  doth  scratch, 
Each  shadow  makes  him  stop,  each  murmur  stay : 
For  misery  is  trodden  on  by  uu 
And  being  low  never  reliev'd  by  any.'* 

Here,  then,  be  it  observed,  are  not  only  the  same  objects, 
the  same  accidents,  the  same  movement,  in  each  descrip- 
tion, but  the  very  words  employed  to  convey  the  scene  to  the 
mind  are  often  the  same  in  each.  It  would  be  easy  to  say 
that  Mr.  Ayton  copied  Shakspere.  We  believe  he  did  not. 
There  is  a  sturdy  ingenuousness  about  his  writings  which 
would  have  led  him  to  notice  the  Knw  and  Adonis  if  he 
had  had  it  in  his  mind.  Shakspere  and  he  had  each  looked 


INTRODUCTION.  _ 

minutely  and  practically  upon  the  same  scene  ;  and  the  won- 
der is,  not  that  Shakspere  was  an  accurate  describer,  but  that 
in  him  the  accurate  is  so  thoroughly  fused  with  the  poetical 
that  it  is  one  and  the  same  life. 

The  celebrated  description  of  the  courser  in  the  Venus 
and  Adonis  is  another  remarkable  instance  of  the  accuracy 
of  the  young  Shakspere's  observation.  Not  the  most  expe- 
rienced dealer  ever  knew  the  points  of  a  horse  better.  The 
whole  poem  indeed  is  full  of  evidence  that  the  circumstances 
by  which  the  writer  was  surrounded,  in  a  country  district, 
had  entered  deeply  into  his  mind,  and  were  reproduced 
in  the  poetical  form.  The  bird  "  tangled  in  a  net" — the 
"  didapper  peering  through  a  wave  " — the  "  blue-veined  vio- 
lets "—the 

"  red  morn,  that  ever  yet  betoken'd 
Wrack  to  the  seaman,  tempest  to  the  field  " — 

the  fisher  that  forbears  the  "  ungrown  fry  " — the  sheep  "gone 
to  fold" — the  caterpillars  feeding  on  "the  tender  leaves "- 
and,  not  to  weary  with  examples,  that  exquisite  image, 

"  Look  how  a  bright  star  shooteth  from  the  sky, 
So  glides  he  in  the  night  from  Venus'  eye  " — 

all  these  bespeak  a  poet  who  had  formed  himself  upon  nat- 
ure, and  not  upon  books.  To  understand  the  value  as  well 
as  the  rarity  of  this  quality  in  Shakspere,  we  should  open 
any  contemporary  poem.  Take  Marlowe's  Hero  and  Lean- 
der  for  example.  We  read  line  after  line,  beautiful,  gorgeous, 
running  over  with  a  satiating  luxuriousness ;  but  we  look  in 
vain  for  a  single  familiar  image.  Shakspere  describes  what 
he  has  seen,  throwing  over  the  real  the  delicious  tint  of  his 
own  imagination.  Marlowe  looks  at  Nature  herself  very 
rarely;  but  he  knows  all  the  conventional  images  by  which 
the  real  is  supposed  to  be  elevated  into  the  poetical.  His 
most  beautiful  things  are  thus  but  copies  of  copies.  The 
mode  in  which  each  poet  described  the  morning  will  illus- 
trate our  meaning: 


24  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

"  Lo  !  here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest, 
From  his  moist  cabinet  mounts  up  on  high, 
And  wakes  the  morning,  from  whose  silver  breast 
The  sun  ariseth  in  his  majesty ; 

Who  doth  the  world  so  gloriously  behold, 
The  cedar-tops  and  hills  seem  burnish'd  gold." 

We  feel  that  this  is  true.     Compare — 

"  By  this  Apollo's  golden  harp  began 
To  sound  forth  music  to  the  ocean ; 
Which  watchful  Hesperus  no  sooner  heard 
But  he  the  day's  bright-bearing  car  prepar'd, 
And  ran  before,  as  harbinger  of  light, 
And  with  his  flaring  beams  mock'd  ugly  Night, 
Till  she,  o'ercpme  with  anguish,  shame,  and  rage, 
Dang'd  down  to  hell  her  loathsome  carriage." 

We  are  taught  that  this  is  classical. 

Coleridge  has  observed  that,  "  in  the  Venus  and  Adonis, 
the  first  and  most  obvious  excellence  is  the  perfect  sweet- 
ness of  the  versification;  its  adaptation  to  the  subject;  and 
the  power  displayed  in  varying  the  march  of  the  words  with- 
out passing  into  a  loftier  and  more  majestic  rhythm  than  was 
demanded  by  the  thoughts,  or  permitted  by  the  propriety  of 
preserving  a  sense  of  melody  predominant."*  This  self- 
controlling  power  of  "varying  the  march  of  the  words  with- 
out passing  into  a  loftier  and  more  majestic  rhythm"  is  per- 
haps one  of  the  most  signal  instances  of  Shakspere's  consum- 
mate mastery  of  his  art,  even  as  a  very  young  man.  He  who, 
at  the  proper  season,  knew  how  to  strike  the  grandest  music 
within  the  compass  of  our  own  powerful  and  sonorous  lan- 
guage, in  his  early  productions  breathes  out  his  thoughts 

"To  the  Dorian  mood 
Of  flutes  and  soft  recorders." 

The  sustained  sweetness  of  the  versification  is  never  cloy- 
ing;  and  yet  there  are  no  violent  contrasts,  no  sudden  ele- 
vations :  all  is  equable  in  its  infinite  variety.  The  early 

*  Biograpkia  Litcraria^  vol.  ii.  p.  14. 


INTRODUCTION-.  2* 

comedies  are  full  of  the  same  rare  beauty.  In  Love's  La- 
bour's Lost — The  Comedy  of  Errors — A  Midsummer-Nighf  s 
Dream — we  have  verses  of  alternate  rhymes  formed  upon  the 
same  model  as  those  of  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  and  producing 
the  same  feeling  of  placid  delight  by  their  exquisite  harmony. 
The  same  principles  on  which  he  built  the  versification  of 
the  Venus  and  Adonis  exhibited  to  him  the  grace  which  these 
elegiac  harmonies  would  impart  to  the  scenes  of  repose  in 
the  progress  of  a  dramatic  action. 

We  proceed  to  the  Lucrece.  Of  that  poem  the  dale  of 
the  composition  is  fixed  as  accurately  as  we  can  desire. 
In  the  dedication  to  the  Venus  and  Adonis  the  poet  says : 
"  If  your  honour  seem  but  pleased  I  account  myself  highly 
praised,  and  vow  to  take  advantage  of  all  idle  hours  till  I 
have  honoured  you  with  some  graver  labour."  In  1594,  a 
year  after  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece  was  published,  and 
was  dedicated  to  Lord  Southampton.  This,  then,  was  un- 
doubtedly the  "graver  labour;"  this  was  the  produce  of  the 
"idle  hours"  of  1593.  Shakspere  was  then  nearly  thirty 
years  of  age — the  period  at  which  it  is  held  by  some  he  first 
began  to  produce  anything  original  for  the  stage.  The  poet 
unquestionably  intended  the  "graver  labour"  for  a  higher 
effort  than  had  produced  the  "first  heir"  of  his  invention. 
He  describes  the  Venus  and  Adonis  as  "unpolished  lines  "- 
lines  thrown  off  with  youthful  luxuriousness  and  rapidity. 
The  verses  of  the  Lucrece  are  "untutored  lines"  —  lines 
formed  upon  no  established  model.  There  is  to  our  mind  the 
difference  of  eight  or  even  ten  years  in  the  aspect  of  these 
poems — a  difference  as  manifest  as  that  which  exists  between 
Love's  Labour  's  Lost  and  Romeo  and  Juliet.  Coleridge  has 
marked  the  great  distinction  between  the  one  poem  and  the 
other  : 

"The  Venus  and  Adonis  did  not  perhaps  allow  the  display 
of  the  deeper  passions.  But  the  story  of  Lucretia  seems  to 
favour,  and  even  demand,  their  intensest  workings.  And 


26  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

yet  we  find  in  Shakespeare's  management  of  the  tale  neither 
pathos  nor  any  other  dramatic  quality.  There  is  the  same 
minute  and  faithful  imagery  as  in  the  former  poem,  in  the 
same  vivid  colours,  inspirited  by  the  same  impetuous  vigour 
of  thought,  and  diverging  and  contracting  with  the  same  ac- 
tivity of  the  assimilative  and  of  the  modifying  faculties  ;  and 
with  a  yet  larger  display,  a  yet  wider  range  of  knowledge  and 
reflection  :  and,  lastly,  with  the  same  perfect  dominion,  often 
domi?iation,  over  the  whole  world  of  language."* 

It  is  in  this  paragraph  that  Coleridge  has  marked  the  dif- 
ference— which  a  critic  of  the  very  highest  order  could  alone 
have  pointed  out — between  the  power  which  Shakspere's 
mind  possessed  of  going  out  of  itself  in  a  narrative  poem, 
and  the  dramatic  power.  The  same  mighty,  and  to  most 
unattainable,  power,  of  utterly  subduing  the  self-conscious 
to  the  universal,  was  essential  to  the  highest  excellence  of 
both  species  of  composition,  —  the  poem  and  the  drama. 
But  the  exercise  of  that  power  was  essentially  different  in 
each.  Coleridge,  in  another  place,  says  :  "  In  his  very  first 
production  he  projected  his  mind  out  of  his  own  particular 
being,  and  felt,  and  made  others  feel,  on  subjects  no  way 
connected  with  himself  except  by  force  of  contemplation, 
and  that  sublime  faculty  by  which  a  great  mind  becomes 
that  on  which  it  meditates." t  But  this  "sublime  faculty" 
went  greatly  farther  when  it  became  dramatic,  hi  the  nar- 
rative poems  of  an  ordinary  man  we  perpetually  see  the  nar- 
rator. Coleridge,  in  a  passage  previously  quoted,  has  shown 
the  essential  superiority  of  Shakspere's  narrative  poems, 
where  the  whole  is  placed  before  our  view,  the  poet  unpar- 
ticipating  in  the  passions.  There  is  a  remarkable  example 
of  how  strictly  Shakspere  adhered  to  this  principle  in  his 
beautiful  poem  of  A  Lover's  Complaint.  There  the  poet  is 
actually  present  to  the  scene  : 

*  Biographia  Literaria,  vol.  ii.  p.  21. 
t  Literary  Remains,  vol.  ii.  p.  54. 


INTRODUCTION.  2J 

"  From  off  a  hill  whose  concave  womb  re-worded 
A  plaintful  story  from  a  sistering  vale, 
My  spirits  to  attend  this  double  voice  accorded, 
And  down  I  laid  to  list  the  sad-tun'd  tale." 

But  not  one  word  of  comment  does  he  offer  upon  the  reve- 
lations of  the  "  fickle  maid  full  pale."  The  dramatic  power, 
however,  as  we  have  said,  is  many  steps  beyond  this.  It 
dispenses  with  narrative  altogether.  It  renders  a  compli- 
cated story,  or  stones,  one  in  the  action.  It  makes  the  char- 
acters reveal  themselves,  sometimes  by  a  word.  It  trusts  for 
everything  to  the  capacity  of  an  audience  to  appreciate  the 
greatest  subtleties,  and  the  nicest  shades  of  passion,  through 
the  action.  It  is  the  very  reverse  of  the  oratorical  power, 
which  repeats  and  explains.  And  how  is  it  able  to  effect 
this  prodigious  mastery  over  the  senses  and  the  understand- 
ing? By  raising  the  mind  of  the  spectator,  or  reader,  into 
such  a  state  of  poetical  excitement  as  corresponds  in  some 
degree  to  the  excitement  of  the  poet,  and  thus  clears  away 
the  mists  of  our  ordinary  vision,  and  irradiates  the  whole 
complex  moral  world  in  which  we  for  a  time  live,  and  move, 
and  have  our  being,  with  the  brightness  of  his  own  intel- 
lectual sunlight.  Now,  it  appears  to  us  that,  although  the 
Venus  and  Adonis,  and  the  Lucrece,  do  not  pretend  to  be  the 
creations  of  this  wonderful  power — their  forms  did  not  de- 
mand its  complete  exercise — they  could  not  have  been  pro- 
duced by  a  man  who  did  not  possess  the  power,  and  had 
assiduously  cultivated  it  in  its  own  proper  field.  In  the 
second  poem,  more  especially,  do  we  think  the  power  has 
reached  a  higher  development,  indicating  itself  in  "a  yet 
wider  range  of  knowledge  and  reflection." 

Malone  says :  "  I  have  observed  that  Painter  has  inserted 
the  story  of  Lucrece  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Palace  of  Pleas- 
ure, 1567,  on  which  I  make  no  doubt  our  author  formed  his 
poem."  Be  it  so.  The  story  of  Lucrece  in  Painter's  novel 
occupies  four  pages.  The  first  page  describes  the  circum- 


28  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

stances  that  preceded  the  unholy  visit  of  Tarquin  to  Lucrece ; 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  last  two  pages  detail  the  events  that 
followed  the  death  of  Lucrece.  A  page  and  a  half  at  most 
is  given  to  the  tragedy.  This  is  proper  enough  in  a  narra- 
tive, whose  business  it  is  to  make  all  the  circumstances  intel- 
ligible. But  the  narrative  poet,  who  was  also  thoroughly 
master  of  the  dramatic  power,  concentrates  all  the  interest 
upon  the  main  circumstances  of  the  story.  He  places  the 
scene  of  those  circumstances  before  our  eyes  at  the  very 
opening: 

"  From  the  besieged  Ardea  all  in  post, 
Borne  by  the  trustless  wings  of  false  desire, 
Lust-breathed  Tarquin  leaves  the  Roman  host, 
And  to  Collatium  bears,"  etc. 

The  preceding  circumstances  which  impel  this  journey  are 
then  rapidly  told.  Again,  after  the  crowning  action  of  the 
tragedy,  the  poet  has  done.  He  tells  the  consequences  of 
it  with  a  brevity  and  simplicity  indicating  the  most  consum- 
mate art : 

"  When  they  had  sworn  to  this  advised  doom, 
They  did  conclude  to  bear  dead  Lucrece  thence ; 
To  show  her  bleeding  body  thorough  Rome, 
And  so  to  publish  Tarquin's  foul  offence : 
Which  being  done  with  speedy  diligence, 

The  Romans  plausibly  did  give  consent 

To  Tarquin's  everlasting  banishment.'7 

He  has  thus  cleared  away  all  the  encumbrances  to  the  prog- 
ress of  the  main  action.  He  would  have  done  the  same  had 
he  made  Lucrece  the  subject  of  a  drama.  But  he  has  to  tell 
his  painful  story  and  to  tell  it  all :  not  to  exhibit  a  portion 
of  it,  as  he  would  have  done  had  he  chosen  the  subject  for  a 
tragedy.  The  consummate  delicacy  with  which  he  has  accom- 
plished this  is  beyond  all  praise,  perhaps  above  all  imitation. 
He  puts  forth  his  strength  on  the  accessories  of  the  main 
incident.  He  delights  to  make  the  chief  actors  analyze 
their  own  thoughts,— reflect,  explain,  expostulate.  All  this 


INTRODUCTION. 

is  essentially  undramatic,  and  he  meant  it  to  be  so.  But 
then,  what  pictures  does  he  paint  of  the  progress  of  the  ac- 
tion, which  none  but  a  great  dramatic  poet,  who  had  visions 
of  future  Macbeths  and  Othellos  before  him,  could  have  paint- 
ed !  Look,  for  example,  at  that  magnificent  scene,  when 
"  No  comfortable  star  did  lend  his  light," 

of  Tarquin  leaping  from  his  bed,  and,  softly  smiting  his  fal- 
chion on  a  flint,  lighting  a  torch 

"  Which  must  be  lode-star  to  his  lustful  eye." 
Look,  again,  at  the  exquisite  domestic  incident  which  tells 
of  the  quiet  and  gentle  occupation  of  his  devoted  victim  : 

"  By  the  light  he  spies 

Lucretia's  glove,  wherein  her  needle  sticks ; 
He  takes  it  from  the  rushes  where  it  lies." 

The  hand  to  which  that  glove  belongs  is  described  in  the 
very  perfection  of  poetry  : 

"  Without  the  bed  her  other  fair  hand  was, 
On  the  green  coverlet ;  whose  perfect  white 
Shovv'd  like  an  April  daisy  on  the  grass." 

In  the  chamber  of  innocence  Tarquin  is  painted  with  terrific 
grandeur,  which  is  overpowering  by  the  force  of  contrast: 

This  said  he  shakes  aloft  his  Roman  blade, 
Which,  like  a  falcon  towering  in  the  skies, 
Coucheth  the  fowl  below  with  his  wings'  shade." 

The  complaint  of  Lucrece  after  Tarquin  has  departed  was 
meant  to  be  undramatic.  The  action  advances  not.  The 
character  develops  not  itself  in  the  action.  But  the  poet 
makes  his  heroine  bewail  her  fate  in  every  variety  of  lament 
that  his  boundless  command  of  imagery  could  furnish.  The 
letter  to  Collatine  is  written  ; — a  letter  of  the  most  touching 
simplicity  :  «  Thou  worthy  lord 

Of  that  unworthy  wife  that  greeteth  thee, 
Health  to  thy  person  !     Next  vouchsafe  to  afford 
(If  ever,  love,  thy  Lucrece  thou  wilt  see) 
Some  present  speed  to  come  and  visit  me : 


30    .  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

So  I  commend  me  from  our  house  in  grief; 

My  woes  are  tedious,  though  my  words  are  brief." 

Again  the  action  languishes,  and  again  Lucrece  surrenders 
herself  to  her  grief.  The 

"  Skilful  painting,  made  for  Priam's  Troy  " 

is  one  of  the  most  elaborate  passages  of  the  poem,  essentially 
cast  in  an  undramatic  mould.  But  this  is  but  a  prelude  to 
the  catastrophe,  where,  if  we  mistake  not,  a  strength  of  pas- 
sion is  put  forth  which  is  worthy  him  who  drew  the  terrible 
agonies  of  Lear : 

"  Here  with  a  sigh,  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 
She  throws  forth  Tarquin's  name  :  *  He,  he,7  she  says, 
But  more  than  '  he '  her  poor  tongue  could  not  speak ; 
Till  after  many  accents  and  delays, 
Untimely  breathings,  sick  and  short  assays, 
She  utters  this  :   *  Me,  he,  fair  lords,  't  is  he, 
That  guides  this  hand  to  give  this  wound  to  me.' " 

Malone,  in  his  concluding  remarks  upon  the  Venus  and  Ado- 
nis, and  Lucrece,  says :  "We  should  do  Shakspeare  injustice 
were  we  to  try  them  by  a  comparison  with  more  modern  and 
polished  productions,  or  with  our  present  ic}ea  of  poetical 
excellence."  This  was  written  in  the  year  1780 — the  period 
which  rejoiced  in  the  "  polished  productions  "  of  Hayley  and 
Miss  Seward,  and  founded  its  "  idea  of  poetical  excellence  " 
on  some  standard  which,  secure  in  its  conventional  forms, 
might  depart  as  far  as  possible  from  simplicity  and  nature, 
to  give  us  words  without  thought,  arranged  in  verses  without 
music.  It  would  be  injustice  indeed  to  Shakspere  to  try  the 
Venus  and  Adonis,  and  Lucrece,  by  such  a  standard  of  "  poet- 
ical excellence."  But  we  have  outlived  that  period.  By  way 
of  apology  for  Shakspere,  Malone  adds,  "  that  few  authors 
rise  much  above  the  age  in  which  they  live."  He  further 
says,  "the  poems  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  and  the  Rape  of  Lu- 
crece, whatever  opinion  may  be  now  entertained  of  them,  were 
certainly  much  admired  in  Shakspeare's  lifetime."  This  is 


INTRODUCTION.  -, 

consolatory.  In  Shakspere's  lifetime  there  were  a  few  men 
that  the  world  has  since  thought  somewhat  qualified  to  estab- 
lish an  "idea  of  poetical  excellence"  —  Spenser,  Drayton, 
Jonson,  Fletcher,  Chapman,  for  example.  These  were  not 
much  valued  in  Malone's  golden  age  of  "  more  modern  and 
polished  productions  ;"  —  but  let  that  pass.  We  are  coming 
back  to  the  opinions  of  this  obsolete  school  ;  and  we  venture 
to  think  the  majority  of  readers  now  will  not  require  us  to 
make  an  apology  for  Shakspere's  poems. 


[From  Dowderfs  " 
The  Venus  and  Adonis  is  styled  by  its  author,  in  the  ded- 
ication to  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  "  the  first  heir  of  my 
invention."  Gervinus  believes  that  the  poem  may  have 
been  written  before  the  poet  left  Stratford.  Although  pos- 
sibly separated  by  a  considerable  interval  from  its  companion 
poem,  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  (1594),  the  two  may  be  regarded 
as  essentially  one  in  kind.  The  specialty  of  these  poems  as 
portions  of  Shakspere's  art  has  perhaps  not  been  sufficiently 
observed,  t  Each  is  an  artistic  study  ;  and  they  form,  as  has 
been  just  observed,  companion  studies  —  one  of  female  lust 
and  boyish  coldness,  the  other  of  male  lust  and  womanly 
chastity.  Coleridge  noticed  "  the  utter  aloofness  of  the  poet's 
own  feelings  from  those  of  which  he  is  at  once  the  painter 
and  the  analyst  ;"  but  it  can  hardly  be  admitted  that  this 
aloofness  of  the  poet's  own  feelings  proceeds  from  a  dramatic 
abandonment  of  self.  The  subjects  of  these  two  poems  did 
not  call  and  choose  their  poet  ;  they  did  not  possess  him 
and  compel  him  to  render  them  into  art.  Rather  the  poet 
expressly  made  choice  of  the  subjects,  and  deliberately  set 
himself  down  before  each  to  accomplish  an  exhaustive  study 
of  it. 

*  Shakspere:  a  Critical  Study  of  his  Mind  and  Art,  by  Edward  Dow- 
den  ;  Harper's  ed.  p.  43  fol. 
f  Coleridge  touches  upon  the  fact,  and  it  is  noted  by  Lloyd. 

3 


32  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

If  the  Venus  and  Adonis  sonnets  in  The  Passionate  Pil- 
grim be  by  Shakspere,  it  would  seem  that  he  had  been  try- 
ing various  poetical  exercises  on  this  theme.  And  for  a 
young  writer  of  the  Renascence,  the  subject  of  Shakspere's 
earliest  poem  was  a  splendid  one — as  voluptuous  and  un- 
spiritual  as  that  of  a  classical  picture  of  Titian.  It  included 
two  figures  containing  inexhaustible  pasture  for  the  fleshly 
eye,  and  delicacies  and  dainties  for  the  sensuous  imagina- 
tion of  the  Renascence — the  enamoured  Queen  of  Beauty, 
and  the  beautiful,  disdainful  boy.  It  afforded  occasion  for 
endless  exercises  and  variations  on  the  themes  Beauty,  Lust, 
and  Death.  In  holding  the  subject  before  his  imagination, 
Shakspere  is  perfectly  cool  and  collected.  He  has  made 
choice  of  the  subject,  and  he  is  interested  in  doing  his  duty 
by  it  in  the  most  thorough  way  a  young  poet  can  ;  but  he 
remains  unimpassioned — intent  wholly  upon  getting  down 
the  right  colours  and  lines  upon  his  canvas.  Observe  his 
determination  to  put  in  accurately  the  details  of  each  object ; 
to  omit  nothing.  Poor  Wat,  the  hare,  is  described  in  a  dozen 
stanzas.  Another  series  of  stanzas  describes  the  stallion — 
all  his  points  are  enumerated  : 

"  Round-hoof  d,  short-jointed,  fetlocks  shag  and  long, 
Broad  breast,  full  eye,  small  head  and  nostril  wide, 
High  crest,  short  ears,  straight  legs  and  passing  strong, 
Thin  mane,  thick  tail,  broad  buttock,  tender  hide." 

This  passage  of  poetry  has  been  admired  ;  but  is  it  poetry 
or  a  paragraph  from  an  advertisement  of  a  horse-sale  ?  It 
is  part  of  Shakspere's  study  of  an  animal,  and  he  does  his 
work  thoroughly.  In  like  manner,  he  does  not  shrink  from 
faithfully  putting  down  each  one  of  the  amorous  provoca- 
tions and  urgencies  of  Venus.  The  complete  series  of  ma- 
noeuvres must  be  detailed. 

In  Lucrece  the  action  is  delayed  and  delayed,  that  every 
minute  particular  may  be  described,  every  minor  incident 
recorded.  In  the  newness  of  her  suffering  and  shame,  Lu- 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

crece  finds  time  for  an  elaborate  tirade  appropriate  to  the 
theme  "  Night,"  another  to  that  of  "  Time,"  another  to  that 
of  "  Opportunity."  Each  topic  is  exhausted.  Then,  studi- 
ously, a  new  incident  is  introduced,  and  its  significance  for 
the  emotions  is  drained  to  the  last  drop  in  a  new  tirade. 
We  nowhere  else  discover  Shakspere  so  evidently  engaged 
upon  his  work.  Afterwards  he  puts  a  stress  upon  his  verses 
to  compel  them  to  contain  the  hidden  wealth  of  his  thought 
and  imagination.  Here  he  displays  at  large  such  wealth  as 
he  possesses  ;  he  will  have  none  of  it  half  seen.  The  de- 
scriptions and  declamations  are  undramatic,  but  they  show 
us  the  materials  laid  out  in  detail  from  which  dramatic 
poetry  originates.  Having  drawn  so  carefully  from  models, 
the  time  comes  when  he  can  trust  himself  to  draw  from 
memory,  and  he  possesses  marvellous  freedom  of  hand,  be- 
cause his  previous  studies  have  been  so  laborious.  It  was 
the  same  hand  that  drew  the  stallion  in  Venus  and  Adonis 
which  afterwards  drew  with  infallible  touch,  as  though  they 
were  alive,  the  dogs  of  Theseus  : 

"My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 
So  flew'd,  so  sanded,  and  their  heads  are  hung 
With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew ; 
Crook-kneed,  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls ; 
Slow  in  pursuit ;  but  match'd  in  mouth  like  bells, 
Each  under  each.     A  cry  more  tunable 
Was  never  holla'd  to,  nor  cheer'd  with  horn, 
In  Crete,  in  Sparta,  nor  in  Thessaly."  * 

*  The  comparison  of  these  two  passages  is  from  Hnzlitt,  whose  unfa- 
vourable criticism  of  Shakspere's  poems  expresses  well  one  side  of  the 
truth.  "  The  two  poems  of  Venus  and  Adonis  and  of  Tarquin  and  Ln- 
crece  appear  to  us  like  a  couple  of  ice-houses.  They  are  about  as  hard, 
as  glittering,  and  as  cold.  The  author  seems  all  the  time  to  be  thinking 
of  his  verses,  and  not  of  his  subject — not  of  what  his  characters  would 
feel,  but  of  what  he  shall  say ;  and,  as  it  must  happen  in  all  such  cases, 
he  always  puts  into  their  mouths  those  things  which  they  would  be  the 
last  to  think  of,  and  which  it  shows  the  greatest  ingenuity  in  him  to  find 
out.  The  whole  is  laboured,  uphill  work.  The  poet  is  perpetually  sin- 


34  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

When  these  poems  were  written,  Shakspere  was  cautiously 
feeling  his  way.  Large,  slow-growing  natures,  gifted  with  a 
sense  of  concrete  fact  and  with  humour,  ordinarily  possess  no 
great  self-confidence  in  youth.  An  idealist,  like  Milton,  may 
resolve  in  early  manhood  that  he  will  achieve  a  great  epic 
poem,  and  in  old  age  may  turn  into  fact  the  ideas  of  his 
youth.  An  idealist,  like  -Marlowe,  may  begin  his  career  with 
a  splendid  youthful  audacity,  a  stupendous  Tamburlaine. 
A  man  of  the  kind  to  which  Shakspere  belonged,  although 
very  resolute,  and  determined,  if  possible,  to  succeed,  re- 
quires the  evidence  of  objective  facts  to  give  him  self-confi- 
dence. His  special  virtue  lies  in  a  peculiarly  pregnant  and 
rich  relation  with  the  actual  world,  and  such  relation  com- 
monly establishes  itself  by  a  gradual  process.  Accordingly, 
instead  of  flinging  abroad  into  the  world  while  still  a  strip- 
ling some  unprecedented  creation,  as  Marlowe  did,  or  as 
Victor  Hugo  did,  and  securing  thereby  the  position  of  a 
leader  of  an  insurgent  school,  Shakspere  began,  if  not  tim- 
idly, at  least  cautiously  and  tentatively.  He  undertakes 
work  of  any  and  every  description,  and  tries  and  tests  him- 
self upon  all.  He  is  therefore  a  valued  person  in  his  theat- 
rical company,  ready  to  turn  his  hand  to  anything  helpful — 

gling  out  the  difficulties  of  the  art  to  make  an  exhibition  of  his  strength 
and  skill  in  wrestling  with  them.  He  is  making  perpetual  trials  of  them 
as  if  his  mastery  over  them  were  doubted.  ...  A  beautiful  thought  is  sure 
to  be  lost  in  an  endless  commentary  upon  it.  ...  There  is,  besides,  a 
strange  attempt  to  substitute  the  language  of  painting  for  that  of  poetry, 
to  make  us  see  their  feelings  in  the  faces  of  the  persons." — Characters  of 
Shakspere 's  Plays  (ed.  1818),  pp.  348,  349.  Coleridge's  much  more  favor- 
able criticism  will  be  found  in  Biographia  Literaria  (ed.  1847),  v°l-  "•  cn- 
ii.  The  peculiarity  of  the  poems  last  noticed  in  the  extract  from  Hazlitt 
is  ingeniously  accounted  for  by  Coleridge.  "  The  great  instinct  which 
impelled  the  poet  to  the  drama  was  secretly  working  in  him,  prompting 
him  ...  to  provide  a  substitute  for  that  visual  language,  that  constant 
intervention  and  running  comment  by  tone,  look,  and  gesture,  which  in 
his  dramatic  works  he  was  entitled  to  expect  from  the  players"  (pp. 
1 8,  19). 


INTRODUCTION.  ,- 

a  Jack-of-all-trades,  a  "Johannes-factotum;"  he  is  obliging 
and  free  from  self-assertion  ;  he  is  waiting  his  time ;  he  is 
not  yet  sure  of  himself;  he  finds  it  the  sensible  thing  not  to 
profess  singularity.  "Divers  of  worship"  report  his  "up- 
rightness of  dealing  ;"  he  is  "excellent  in  the  quality  he  pro- 
fesses ;"*  his  demeanor  is  civil ;  he  is  recognized  even  already 
as  having  a  "  facetious  grace  in  writing."  f  Let  us  not  sup- 
pose, because  Shakspere  declines  to  assault  the  real  world 
and  the  world  of  imagination,  and  take  them  by  violence, 
that  he  is  therefore  a  person  of  slight  force  of  character. 
He  is  determined  to  master  both  these  worlds,  if  possible. 
He  approaches  them  with  a  facile  and  engaging  air  ;  by-and- 
by  his  grasp  upon  facts  will  tighten.  From  Marlowe  and 
from  Milton  half  of  the  world  escapes.  Shakspere  will  lay 
hold  of  it  in  its  totality,  and,  once  that  he  has  laid  hold  of  it, 
will  never  let  it  go. 

[From  Mr.  F.  J.  FnrnwaWs  Comments  on  the  Poems.  J] 
In  the  Venus  and  Adonis  we  have  the  same  luxuriance  of 
fancy,  the  same  intensity  of  passion,  as  in  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
illegitimate  and  unlawful  though  the  indulgence  in  that 
passion  is.  We  have  the  link  with  the  Midsummer-  Night 's 
Dream  in  the  stanza  "  Bid  me  discourse,"  and  the  hounds 
hunting  the  hare.  The  poem  was  entered  on  the  Station- 
ers' Register  and  published  in  1593,  and  must  be  of  nearly 
the  same  date  as  the  Romeo  and  Juliet.  It  is  dedicated  to 
Shakspere's  young  patron,  Henry,  Earl  of  Southampton ; 

*  On  the  special  use  of  the  word  "quality"  for  the  stage-player's  pro- 
fession, see  a  note  by  Hermann  Kurz  in  his  article,  "  Shakespeare  der 
Schauspieler,"  Shakespeare- Jahrbuch,  vol.  vi.  pp.  317,  318. 

t  Chettle's  "Kind  Heart's  Dream,"  1592.  But  see  Mr.  Howard  Staun- 
ton's  letter  in  The  Athenceum,  Feb.  7,  1874;  Mr.  Simpson's  article, 
"Shakspere  Allusion  Books,"  The  Academy,  April  n,  1874;  and  Dr. 
Ingleby's  preface  to  Shakspere  Allusion  Books,  published  for  the  New 
Shakspere  Society. 

t  The  Leopold  Shakspere  (London,  1877),  p.  xxx.  fol. 


35  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

and  I  would  fain  believe  the  subject  was  set  him  by  that 
patron.  But  from  whatever  source  came  the  impulse  to  take 
from  Ovid  the  heated  story  of  the  heathen  goddess's  lust,  we 
cannot  forbear  noticing  how  through  this  stifling  atmosphere 
Shakspere  has  blown  the  fresh  breezes  of  English  meads  and 
downs.  Midsummer- Nigh fs  Dream  itself  is  not  fuller  of 
evidence  of  Shakspere's  intimate  knowledge  of,  and  intense 
delight  in,  country  scenes  and  sights,  whether  shown  in  his 
description  of  horse  and  hounds,  or  in  closer  touches,  like 
that  of  the  hush  of  wind  before  the  rain  ;  while  such  lines 
as  those  about  the  eagle  flapping,  "shaking  its  wings"  (57), 
over  its  food,  send  us  still  to  the  Zoological  Gardens  to  ver- 
ify. Two  lines  there  are,  reflecting  Shakspere's  own  expe- 
rience of  life — his  own  early  life  in  London  possibly — which 
we  must  not  fail  to  note  ;  they  are  echoed  in  Hamlet : 

"For  misery  is  trodden  on  by  many, 
And  being  low,  never  reliev'd  by  any." 

'T  was  a  lesson  plainly  taught  by  the  Elizabethan  days, 
and  the  Victorian  preach  it  too.  It  has  been  the  fashion 
lately  to  run  down  the  Venus  as  compared  with  Marlowe's 
Hero  and  Leander.  Its  faults  are  manifest.  It  shows  less 
restraint  and  training  than  the  work  of  the  earlier-ripened 
Marlowe;  but  to  me  it  has  a  fulness  of  power  and  promise 
of  genius  enough  to  make  three  Marlowes.  .  .  . 

Though  the  Venus  was  dedicated  by  Shakspere,  when  twen- 
ty-nine, to  the  Earl  of  Southampton  before  he  was  twenty,* 
and  cannot  be  called  an  improving  poern  for  a  young  noble- 
man to  read,  we  must  remember  the  difference  between  the 

*  He  was  born  October  6,  1573  ;  his  father  died  October  4,  1581  ;  he 
entered  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  on  December  11,  1585,  just 
after  he  was  twelve ;  took  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  before  he  was 
sixteen,  on  June  6,  1589  ;  and  soon  after  entered  at  Gray's  Inn,  London. 
He  was  a  ward  of  Lord  Burghley.  He  became  a  favourite  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's,  but  lost  her  favour,  in  1595,  for  making  love  to  Elizabeth 
Vernon  (Essex's  cousin),  whom  he  married  later,  in  1598.  (Massey's 
Shaksptrc's  Sonnets,  p.  53,  etc.) 


INTRODUCTION.  ^ 

Elizabethan  times  and  our  own.  Then,  not  one  in  a  thou- 
sand of  the  companions  of  poets  would  have  complained  of 
Shakspere's  choice  of  subject,  or  thought  it  other  than  as 
legitimate  as  its  treatment  was  beautiful.  The  same  subject 
was  repeated  perhaps  by  Shakspere  in  some  sonnets  of  Tht 
Passionate  Pilgrim;  and  a  like  one,  in  higher  and  happier 
tone,  was  made  the  motive  of  his  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well 
— as  I  believe,  the  recast  of  his  early  Love's  Labours  Won. 
However  it  grates  on  one  to  compare  the  true  and  loving 
Helena  with  the  lustful  Venus,  one  must  admit  that  the  pur- 
suit of  an  unwilling  man  by  a  willing  woman — though  he  was 
no  Joseph,  and  she  no  Potiphar's  wife — was  not  so  distaste- 
ful to  the  Elizabethan  age  as  it  is  to  the  Victorian.  Consta- 
ble's best  poem  (printed  in  1600)  treats  the  same  topic  as 
Shakspere's  first :  its  title  is  The  Shepherd's  Song  of  Venus 
and  Adonis* 

Of  possession  and  promise  in  Shakspere's  first  poem,  we 
have  an  intense  love  of  nature,  and  a  conviction  (which  nev- 
er left  him)  of  her  sympathy  with  the  moods  of  men  ;  a  pene- 
trating eye  ;  a  passionate  soul  ;|  a  striking  power  of  throw- 
ing himself  into  all  he  sees,  and  reproducing  it  living  and 
real  to  his  reader;  a  lively  fancy,  command  of  words,  and 
music  of  verse  ;  these  wielded  by  a  shaping  spirit  that  strives 
to  keep  each  faculty  under  one  control,  and  guide  it  while 
doing  its  share  of  the  desired  whole.  .  .  . 

The  first  $  allusion  to  the  Venus  is  by  Meres  in  1598  :  .  .  . 

*  Lodge  has  three  stanzas  in  his  Glaucus  and  Scilla,  1589,  on  Adonis's 
death,  and  Venus  coming  down  to  his  corpse. 

t  "  A  young  poet  can,  at  most,  give  evidence  of  ardent  feeling  and 
fresh  imagination." — Mark  Pattison,  Macmillarfs  Magazine,  March,  1875, 
p.  386. 

J  If  there  really  was  an  earlier  edition  in  1595,  or  any  year  before  1598, 
of  John  Weever's  Epigrammes,  which  we  know  only  in  the  edition  of 
1599,  then  Weever  was  before  Meres  in  recognizing  the  merit  of  Shak- 
spere's Venus,  Lncrece,  Romeo,  and  Richard.  See  the  Epigram  22,  in 
the  New  Shakspere  Society's  Allusion  Books,  Pt.  I.  p.  182. 


38  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

"witness  his  Venus  and  Adonis ',  his  Lucrece"  etc.  In  1598 
the  two  poems  were  again  noticed  in  "  A  Remembrance  of 
some  English  Poets,"  the  fourth  tract  in  a  volume  called 
Poems  :  in  Diuers  Humors,  of  which  the  first  tract  bears 
Richard  Barnfield's  name : 

"And  Shakespeare  thou,  whose  hony-flowing  Vaine, 
(Pleasing  the  World)  thy  Praises  doth  obtaine  ; 
Whose  Venus,  and  whose  Lucrece  (sweete  and  chaste), 
Thy  Name  in  fame's  immortall  Booke  have  plac't. 

Liue  ever  you  !  at  least,  in  Fame  liue  ever  ! 

Well  may  the  Bodye  dye ;  but  Fame  dies  neuer." 

In  the  same  year,  1598,  the  satirist,  John  Marston,*  pub- 
lished "  the  first  heir  of  his  invention,"  which  he  called  (p.  202) 
"the  first  bloomes  of  my  poesie,"  "The  Metamorphosis  of 
Pigmalion's  Image.  And  Certaine  Satyres"  (Works,  1856, 
iii.  199),  and  in  it,  says  Mr.  Minto  (Characteristics  of  Eng- 
lish Poets,  1874,  p.  437),  reviving  an  old  theory,  "Shakspere's 
Venus  and  Adonis  was  singled  out  as  the  type  of  dangerously 
voluptuous  poetry,  and  unmercifully  parodied  ;  the  acts  of 
the  goddess  to  win  over  the  cold  youth  being  coarsely  par- 
alleled in  mad  mockery  by  the  acts  of  Pygmalion  to  bring 
his  beloved  statue  to  life."  Now  the  fact  is,  that  there  is  no 
trace  of  "  mad  mockery "  or  parody  in  Marston's  poem, 
though  there  are  echoes  in  it  of  Venus,  as  there  are  si  Rich- 
ard ///.,t  Hamlet,  etc.,  in  Marston's  Scourge  of  Villanie^  his 

*  See  the  character  given  of  him  in  the  most  interesting  Return  from 
Parnassus  (about  1602,  published  1606),  Hazlitt's  DoJsley,\x.  116,  .uj. 
Also  the  anecdote  in  Manningham's  Diary. 

t  "  A  horse  !  a  horse  !  My  kingdom  for  a  horse  !"  (1607.  What  You 
Will,  act  ii.  sc.  i.  Works,  i.  239).  "  A  man  !  a  man  !  a  kingdom  for  a 
man!"  (1598.  Scourge  of  Villanie.  Works,  iii.  278).  And  he  repeats 
the  call,  "  A  man,  a  man  !"  thrice  in  the  next  two  pages  (Shakspere  Allu- 
sion Books,  i.  1 88.  New  Shakspere  Society).  See,  too,  "  A  foole,  a  foole, 
a  foole,  my  coxcombe  for  a  foole  !"  (Fawn,  1606,  act  v.  sc.  i.  Works,  ii. 
89) ;  and  on  p.  23,  Hercules's  imitation  of  lago's  speech  to  Roderigo,  in 
Othello,  ii.  40-60  (Nicholson).  Again,  in  The  Malcontent,  1607,  act  iii. 
sc.  iii.  ( Works,  i.  239),  "  Ho,  ho  !  ho,  ho  !  arte  there,  olde  true  pennye ;" 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

Fawn,  etc.  ;  and  the  far  more  probable  view  of  the  case  is 
that  put  forward  by  Dr.  Brinsley  Nicholson  :  that  Marston, 
being  young,  and  of  a  warm  temperament  and  licentious  dis- 
position, followed  the  lead  of  a  poem  then  in  everybody's 
mouth*  (Shakspere's  Venus\  and  produced  his  Pigmalion's 
Image;  but  being  able  only  to  heighten  the  Venus's  sensual- 
ity, and  leave  out  its  poetry  and  bright  outdoor  life,  he  dis- 
gusted his  readers,  had  his  poem  suppressed  by  Whitgtft  and 
Bancroft's  order,  and  then  tried  to  get  out  of  the  scrape  by 
saying  that  he  had  written  his  nastiness  only  to  condemn 
other  poets  for  writing  theirs  !  A  likely  story  Indeed  !  But 
let  him  tell  it  himself.  In  his  "  Satyre  VI."  of  his  Scourge  of 
Villanie,  1598  (completed  in  1599),  Works,  1856,  iii.  274,  275, 

he  says : 

"  Curio  !  know'st  my  sprite  ; 
Yet  deem'st  that  in  sad  seriousness  I  write 
Such  nasty  stuffe  as  is  Pigmalion? 
Such  maggot-tainted,  lewd  corruption  !  .  .  . 
Think'st  thou  that  I,  which  was  create  to  whip 
Incarnate  fiends  .  .  . 
Think'st  thou  that  I  in  melting  poesie 
Will  pamper  itching  sensualitie, 
That  in  the  bodies  scumme,  all  fatally 
Intombes  the  soules  most  sacred  faculty? 

from  Hamlet,  etc.  Compare,  too,  Lampatho  in  The  Mahontent  (vol.  i.  p. 
236)  with  Armado  in  Love's  Labours  Lost.  Marston  was  steeped  in  Shak- 
spere,  though  to  little  good. 

*  See  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange: 

"  Crip{ple\  But  heave  you  sir?  reading  so  much  as  you  haue  done, 
Doe  you  not  remember  one  pretty  phrase, 
To  scale  the  walles  of  a  faire  wenches  loue  ? 

Bow(dler\.  I  never  read  any  thing  but  Venus  and  Adonis. 

Crip.  Why  that 's  the  very  quintessence  of  loue ; 
If  you  remember  but  a  verse  or  two, 
He  pawne  my  head,  goods,  lands,  and  all,  't  will  doe." 

In  R.  Baron's  ''Fortune's  Tennis-ball"  (Pocula  Castalia,  1640)  are,  says 
Dr.  B.  Nicholson,  many  appropriations  from  Venus  and  Adonis,  suddenly 
occurring  where  hunting  is  spoken  of.  Falstaff  is  also  referred  to ;  and 
at  the  end  are  many  appropriations  from  Ben  Jonson's  Hymcn&L 


40  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Hence,  thou  misjudging  censor  !  know,  I  wrot 
Those  idle  rimes  to  note  the  odious  spot 
And  blemish  that  deformes  the  lineaments 
Of  moderne  poesies  habiliments. 
Oh  that  the  beauties  of  invention* 
For  want  of  judgements  disposition, 
Should  all  be  spoil'd  !  "  .  .  . 

Then,  after  describing  seven  types  of  poets — of  whom  the 
fifth  may  be  Shakspere,f  and  the  sixth  Ben  Jonson  (comp.  p. 
245) — Marston  goes  on  to  satirize  the  readers  of  his  and 
other  writers'  loose  poems,  for  whom  he  "  slubber'd  up  that 
chaos  indigest "  of  his  Pigmalion.  This  epithet  is  certainly 
not  consistent  with  the  dedication  of  his  poem  to  Good  Opin- 
ion and  his  Mistress ;  and  his  excuse  for  his  failure  in  it  is 
plainly  an  after-thought.  But  whatever  we  determine  as  to 
Marston's  motives  and  honesty,  we  shall  all  join  in  regret- 
ting the  "  want  of  judgements  disposition  "  that  let  Shakspere 
choose  Venus  \  for  an  early  place  in  his  glorious  gallery  of 
women — forms  whose  radiant  purity  and  innocence  have 
won  all  hearts;  though  we  will  remember  this  fault  only  as 
the  low  level  from  which  he  rose  on  stepping-stones  of  his 
dead  self  to  higher  things.  He  who  put  Venus  near  the  be- 
ginning of  his  career,  ended  with  Miranda,  Perdita,  Imogen, 
and  Queen  Katherine.  Let  them  make  atonement  for  her  ! 

*  Comp.  Shakspere's  "  First  heir  of  my  invention." 
t  Yon  's  one  whose  straines  haue  flowne  so  high  a  pitch, 

That  straight  he  flags,  and  tumbles  in  a  ditch. 
His  sprightly  hot  high-soring  poesie 
Is  like  that  dream'd-of  imagery, 
Whose  head  was  gold,  brest  silver,  brassie  thigh, 
Lead  leggs,  clay  feete :  O  faire  fram'd  poesie  f 
That  Shakspere's  subject  was  clay,  and  his  verse  gold,  is  certainly  true. 

J  The  author  of  the  Return  from  Parnassus  (written  about  1602,  pub- 
lished 1606),  puts  it  thus  (Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  ix.  118)  : 

"William  Shakespeare? 
Who  loves  Adonis'  love  or  Lucrece  rape: 
His  sweeter  verse  contains  heart-robbing  life, 
Could  but  a  graver  subject  him  content, 
Without  love's  foolish,  lazy  languishment." 


THE   EARL   OF   SOUTHAMPTON. 


TO  THE 

RIGHT  HONOURABLE  HENRY  WRIOTHESLY, 

EARL  OF  SOUTHAMPTON  AND  BARON  OF  TICHFIELD. 

RIGHT  HONOURABLE, 

I  know  not  how  I  shall  offend  in  dedicating  my  unpolished  lines  to 
your  Lordship,  nor  how  the  world  will  censure  me  for  choosing  so 
strong  a  prop  to  support  so  weak  a  burthen  :  only  if  your  honour  seem 
but  pleased,  I  account  myself  highly  praised,  and  vow  to  take  advan- 
tage of  all  idle  hours  till  I  have  honoured  you  with  some  graver  labour. 
But  if  the  first  heir  of  my  invention  prove  deformed,  I  shall  be  sorry  it 
had  so  noble  a  godfather,  and  never  after  ear  so  barren  a  land,  for  fear 
it  yield  me  still  so  bad  a  harvest.  I  leave  it  to  your  honourable  survey, 
and  your  honour  to  your  heart's  content,  which  I  wish  may  always 
answer  your  own  \vish,  and  the  world's  hopeful  expectation. 
Your  Honour's  in  all  duty, 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


VENUS   AND  ADONIS. 

EVEN  as  the  sun  with  purple-colour'd  face 
Had  ta'en  his  last  leave  of  the  weeping  morn, 
Rose-cheek'd  Adonis  hied  him  to  the  chase; 
Hunting  he  lov'd,  but  love  he  laugh'd  to  scorn : 
Sick-thoughted  Venus  makes  amain  unto  him, 
And  like  a  bold-fac'd  suitor  gins  to  woo  him. 

*  Thrice  fairer  than  myself/  thus  she  began, 
4  The  field's  chief  flower,  sweet  above  compare, 
Stain  to  all  nymphs,  more  lovely  than  a  man, 
More  white  and  red  than  doves  or  roses  are, 
Nature  that  made  thee,  with  herself  at  strife, 
Saith  that  the  world  hath  ending  with  thy  life. 

'  Vouchsafe,  thou  wonder,  to  alight  thy  steed, 
And  rein  his  proud  head  to  the  saddle-bow ; 
If  thou  wilt  deign  this  favour,  for  thy  meed 
A  thousand  honey  secrets  shalt  thou  know: 
Here  come  and  sit,  where  never  serpent  hisses, 
And  being  set  I  '11  smother  thee  with  kisses j 


44  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'  And  yet  not  cloy  thy  lips  with  loath'd  satiety, 
.  But  rather  famish  them  amid  their  plenty, 
Making  them  red  and  pale  with  fresh  variety, 
Ten  kisses  short  as  one,  one  long  as  twenty: 
A  summer's  day  will  seem  an  hour  but  short, 
Being  wasted  in  such  time-beguiling  sport.' 

With  this  she  seizeth  on  his  sweating  palm, 
The  precedent  of  pith  and  livelihood, 
And,  trembling  in  her  passion,  calls  it  balm, 
Earth's  sovereign  salve  to  do  a  goddess  good  ; 
Being  so  enrag'd,  desire  doth  lend  her  force 
Courageously  to  pluck  him  from  his  horse. 

Over  one  arm  the  lusty  courser's  rein, 

Under  her  other  was  the  tender  boy, 

Who  blush'd  and  pouted  in  a  dull  disdain, 

With  leaden  appetite,  unapt  to  toy; 

She  red  and  hot  as  coals  of  glowing  fire, 
He  red  for  shame,  but  frosty  in  desire. 

The  studded  bridle  on  a  ragged  bough 

Nimbly  she  fastens— O,  how  quick  is  love! — 

The  steed  is  stalled  up,  and  even  now 

To  tie  the  rider  she  begins  to  prove; 

Backward  she  push'd  him,  as  she  would  be  thrust, 
And  govern'd  him  in  strength,  though  not  in  lust. 

So  soon  was  she  along  as  he  was  down, 
Each  leaning  on  their  elbows  and  their  hips; 
Now  doth  she  stroke  his  cheek,  now  doth  he  frown, 
And  gins  to  chide,  but  soon  she  stops  his  lips, 
And  kissing  speaks,  with  lustful  language  broken, 
1  If  thou  wilt  chide,  thy  lips  shall  never  open.' 

He  burns  with  bashful  shame,  she  with  her  tears 
Doth  quench  the  maiden  burning  of  his  cheeks; 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS. 

45 

Then  with  her  windy  sighs  and  golden  hairs 
To  fan  and  blow  them  dry  again  she  seeks : 

He  saith  she  is  immodest,  blames  her  miss; 

What  follows  more  she  murthers  with  a  kiss. 

Even  as  an  empty  eagle,  sharp  by  fast, 
Tires  with  her  beak  on  feathers,  flesh,  and  bone, 
Shaking  her  wings,  devouring  all  in  haste, 
Till  either  gorge  be  stufFd,  or  prey  be  gone; 
Even  so  she  kiss'd  his  brow,  his  cheek,  his  chin, 
And  where  she  ends  she  doth  anew  begin.  60 

Forc'd  to  content,  but  never  to  obey, 
Panting  he  lies,  and  breatheth  in  her  face: 
She  feedeth  on  the  steam  as  on  a  prey, 
And  calls  it  heavenly  moisture,  air  of  grace; 

Wishing  her  cheeks  were  gardens  full  of  flowers, 
So  they  were  dew'd  with  such  distilling  showers. 

Look  how  a  bird  lies  tangled  in  a  net, 

So  fasten'd  in  her  arms  Adonis  lies  ; 

Pure  shame  and  awed  resistance  made  him  fret, 

Which  bred  more  beauty  in  his  angry  eyes :  70 

Rain  added  to  a  river  that  is  rank 
Perforce  will  force  it  overflow  the  bank. 

Still  she  entreats,  and  prettily  entreats, 

For  to  a  pretty  ear  she  tunes  her  tale ; 

Still  is  he  sullen,  still  he  lowers  and  frets, 

'Twixt  crimson  shame  and  anger  ashy-pale : 
Being  red,  she  loves  him  best ;  and  being  white, 
Her  best  is  better'd  with  a  more  delight. 

Look  how  he  can,  she  cannot  choose  but  love; 

And  by  her  fair  immortal  hand  she  swears  80 

From  his  soft  bosom  never  to  remove 

Till  he  take  truce  with  her  contending  tears, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Which  long  have  rain'd,  making  her  cheeks  all  wet; 
And  one  sweet  kiss  shall  pay  this  countless  debt. 

Upon  this  promise  did  he  raise  his  chin, 
Like  a  divedapper  peering  through  a  wave, 
Who,  being  look'd  on,  ducks  as  quickly  in ; 
So  offers  he  to  give  what  she  did  crave, 
But  when  her  lips  were  ready  for  his  pay, 
He  winks,  and  turns  his  lips  another  way.  90 

Never  did  passenger  in  summer's  heat 
More  thirst  for  drink  than  she  for  this  good  turn. 
Her  help  she  sees,  but  help  she  cannot  get; 
She  bathes  in  water,  yet  her  fire  must  burn  : 

'O,  pity/  gan  she  cry,  'flint-hearted  boy! 

'T  is  but  a  kiss  I  beg ;  why  art  thou  coy  ? 

1 1  have  been  woo'd,  as  I  entreat  thee  now, 
Even  by  the  stern  and  direful  god  of  war, 
Whose  sinewy  neck  in  battle  ne'er  did  bow, 
Who  conquers  where  he  comes  in  every  jar;  100 

Yet  hath  he  been  my  captive  and  my  slave, 
And  begg'd  for  that  which  thou  unask'd  shalt  have, 

'Over  my  altars  hath  he  hung  his  lance, 
His  batter'd  shield,  his  uncontrolled  crest, 
And  for  my  sake  hath  learn'd  to  sport  and  dance, 
To  toy,  to  wanton,  dally,  smile,  and  jest, 
Scorning  his  churlish  drum  and  ensign  red, 
Making  my  arms  his  field,  his  tent  my  bed. 

'  Thus  he  that  overrul'cl  I  oversway'd, 

Leading  him  prisoner  in  a  red-rose  chain  ;  no 

Strong-temper'd  steel  his  stronger  strength  obey'd, 

Yet  was  he  servile  to  my  coy  disdain. 

O,  be  not  proud,  nor  brag  not  of  thy  might, 
For  mastering  her  that  foil'd  the  god  of  fight! 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  47 

'Touch  but  my  lips  with  those  fair  lips  of  thine, — 
Though  mine  be  not  so  fair,  yet  are  they  red, — 
The  kiss  shall  be  thine  own  as  well  as  mine. 
What  seest  thou  in  the  ground?  hold  up  thy  head: 

Look  in  mine  eye-balls,  there  thy  beauty  lies ; 

Then  why  not  lips  on  lips,  since  eyes  in  eyes?         120 

4  Art  thou  asham'd  to  kiss !  then  wink  again, 

And  I  will  wink;  so  shall  the  day  seem  night; 

Love  keeps  his  revels  where  there  are  but  twain; 

Be  bold  to  play,  our  sport  is  not  in  sight  : 
These  blue-vein'd  violets  whereon  we  lean 
Never  can  blab,  nor  know  not  what  we  mean. 

'  The  tender  spring  upon  thy  tempting  lip 

Shows  thee  unripe;  yet  mayst  thou  well  be  tasted ; 

Make  use  of  time,  let  not  advantage  slip ; 

Beauty  within  itself  should  not  be  wasted  :  130 

Fair  flowers  that  are  not  gather'd  in  their  prime 
Rot  and  consume  themselves  in  little  time. 

6  Were  I  hard-favour'd,  foul,  or  wrinkled-old, 
Ill-nurtur'd,  crooked,  churlish,  harsh  in  voice, 
O'erworn,  despised,  rheumatic  and  cold, 
Thick-sighted,  barren,  lean  and  lacking  juice, 

Then  mightst  thou  pause,  for  then  I  were  not  for  thee ; 

But  having  no  defects,  why  dost  abhor  me? 

'Thou  canst  not  see  one  wrinkle  in  my  brow; 

Mine  eyes  are  gray  and  bright  and  quick  in  turning; 

My  beauty  as  the  spring  doth  yearly  grow ;  r4i 

My  flesh  is  soft  and  plump,  my  marrow  burning; 
My  smooth  moist  hand,  were  it  with  thy  hand  felt, 
Would  in  thy  palm  dissolve,  or  seem  to  melt. 

'  Bid  me  discourse,  I  will  enchant  thine  ear, 
Or,  like  a  fairy,  trip  upon  the  green, 

4 


4g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Or,  like  a  nymph,  with  long  dishevell'd  hair, 
Dance  on  the  sands,  and  yet  no  footing  seen  ; 

Love  is  a  spirit  all  compact  of  fire, 

Not  gross  to  sink,  but  light,  and  will  aspire.  150 

*  Witness  this  primrose  bank  whereon  I  lie ; 

These  forceless  flowers  like  sturdy  trees  support  me ; 
Two  strengthless  doves  will  draw  me  through  the  sky, 
From  morn  till  night,  even  where  I  list  to  sport  me : 
Is  love  so  light,  sweet  boy,  and  may  it  be 
That  thou  shouldst  think  it  heavy  unto  thee? 

1  Is  thine  own  heart  to  thine  own  face  affected  ? 

Can  thy  right  hand  seize  love  upon  thy  left? 

Then  woo  thyself,  be  of  thyself  rejected, 

Steal  thine  own  freedom  and  complain  on  theft.          160 
Narcissus  so  himself  himself  forsook, 
And  died  to  kiss  his  shadow  in  the  brook. 

*  Torches  are  made  to  light,  jewels  to  wear, 
Dainties  to  taste,  fresh  beauty  for  the  use, 
Herbs  for  their  smell,  and  sappy  plants  to  bear; 
Things  growing  to  themselves  are  growth's  abuse  : 

Seeds  spring  from  seeds  and  beauty  breedeth  beauty  : 
Thou  wast  begot;  to  get  it  is  thy  duty. 

1  Upon  the  earth's  increase  why  shouldst  thou  feed, 
Unless  the  earth  with  thy  increase  be  fed  ?  170 

By  law  of  nature  thou  art  bound  to  breed, 
That  thine  may  live  when  thou  thyself  art  dead ; 

And  so,  in  spite  of  death,  thou  dost  survive, 

In  that  thy  likeness  still  is  left  alive.' 

By  this  the  love-sick  queen  began  to  sweat, 
For  where  they  lay  the  shadow  had  forsook  them, 
And  Titan,  tired  in  the  mid-day  heat, 
With  burning  eye  did  hotly  overlook  them ; 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS. 

Wishing  Adonis  had  his  team  to  guide, 
So  he  were  like  him  and  by  Venus'  side. 

And  now  Adonis,  with  a  lazy  spright, 

And  with  a  heavy,  dark,  disliking  eye, 

His  lowering  brows  o'erwhelming  his  fair  sight, 

Like  misty  vapours  when  they  blot  the  sky, 

Souring  his  cheeks,  cries  *  Fie,  no  more  of  love! 

The  sun  cloth  burn  my  face;  I  must  remove.' 

'  Ay  me,'  quoth  Venus,  '  young  and  so  unkind  ? 
What  bare  excuses  mak'st  thou  to  be  gone ! 
I  '11  sigh  celestial  breath,  whose  gentle  wind 
Shall  cool  the  heat  of  this  descending  sun: 

I  '11  make  a  shadow  for  thee  of  my  hairs; 

If  they  burn  too,  I  '11  quench  them  with  my  tears. 

'The  sun  that  shines  from  heaven  shines  but  warm, 
And,  lo,  I  lie  between  that  sun  and  thee : 
The  heat  I  have  from  thence  doth  little  harm, 
Thine  eye  darts  forth  the  fire  that  burneth  me; 
And  were  I  not  immortal,  life  were  done 
Between  this  heavenly  and  earthly  sun. 

'  Art  thou  obdurate,  flinty,  hard  as  steel, 
Nay,  more  than  flint,  for  stone  at  rain  relenteth? 
Art  thou  a  woman's  son,  and  canst  not  feel 
What  't  is  to  love?  how  want  of  love  tormenteth? 
O,  had  thy  mother  borne  so  hard  a  mind, 
She  had  not  brought  forth  thee,  but  died  unkind ! 

4  What  am  I,  that  thou  shouldst  contemn  me  this? 

Or  what  great  danger  dwells  upon  my  suit? 

What  were  thy  lips  the  worse  for  one  poor  kiss? 

Speak,  fair;  but  speak  fair  words,  or  else  be  mute: 
Give  me  one  kiss,  I  '11  give  it  thee  again, 
And  one  for  interest,  if  thou  wilt  have  twain. 


50  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

1  Fie,  lifeless  picture,  cold  and  senseless  stone, 
Well-painted  idol,  image  dull  and  dead, 
Statue  contenting  but  the  eye  alone, 
Thing  like  a  man,  but  of  no  woman  bred! 

Thou  art  no  man,  though  of  a  man's  complexion ; 

For  men  will  kiss  even  by  their  own  direction.' 

This  said,  impatience  chokes  her  pleading  tongue, 

And  swelling  passion  doth  provoke  a  pause; 

Red  cheeks  and  fiery  eyes  blaze  forth  her  wrong; 

Being  judge  in  love,  she  cannot  right  her  cause:         220 
And  now  she  weeps,  and  now  she  fain  would  speak, 
And  now  her  sobs  do  her  intendments  break. 

Sometimes  she  shakes  her  head  and  then  his  hand, 
Now  gazeth  she  on  him,  now  on  the  ground; 
Sometimes  her  arms  infold  him  like  a  band: 
She  would,  he  will  not  in  her  arms  be  bound; 

And  when  from  thence  he  struggles  to  be  gone, 

She  locks  her  lily  fingers  one  in  one. 

*  Fondling,'  she  saith,  '  since  I  have  hemm'd  thee  here 
Within  the  circuit  of  this  ivory  pale,  230 

I  '11  be  a  park,  and  thou  shalt  be  my  deer; 
Feed  where  thou  wilt,  on  mountain  or  in  dale: 
Graze  on  my  lips;  and  if  those  hills  be  dry, 
Stray  lower,  where  the  pleasant  fountains  lie. 

'Within  this  limit  is  relief  enough, 
Sweet  bottom-grass  and  high  delightful  plain, 
Round  rising  hillocks,  brakes  obscure  and  rough, 
To  shelter  thee  from  tempest  and  from  rain : 

Then  be  my  deer,  since  I  am  such  a  park; 

No  dog  shall  rouse  thee,  though  a  thousand  bark.'   240 

At  this  Adonis  smiles  as  in  disdain, 

That  in  each  cheek  appears  a  pretty  dimple: 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  5I 

Love  made  those  hollows,  if  himself  were  slain, 

He  might  be  buried  in  a  tomb  so  simple ; 
Foreknowing  well,  if  there  he  came  to  lie, 
Why,  there  Love  liv'd  and  there  he  could  not  die. 

These  lovely  caves,  these  round  enchanting  pits, 

Open'd  their  mouths  to  swallow  Venus'  liking. 

Being  mad  before,  how  doth  she  now  for  wits? 

Struck  dead  at  first,  what  needs  a  second  striking?     250 
Poor  queen  of  love,  in  thine  own  law  forlorrr, 
To  love  a  cheek  that  smiles  at  thee  in  scorn ! 

Now  which  way  shall  she  turn?  what  shall  she  say? 

Her  words  are  done,  her  woes  the  more  increasing; 

The  time  is  spent,  her  object  will  away, 

And  from  her  twining  arms  doth  urge  releasing. 
' Pity,'  she  cries,  'some  favour,  some  remorse!' 
Away  he  springs  and  hasteth  to  his  horse. 

But,  lo,  from  forth  a  copse  that  neighbours  by, 
A  breeding  jennet,  lusty,  young,  and  proud,  360 

Adonis'  trampling  courser  doth  espy, 
And  forth  she  rushes,  snorts,  and  neighs  aloud ; 
The  strong-neck'd  steed,  being  tied  unto  a  tree, 
Breaketh  his  rein,  and  to  her  straight  goes  he. 

Imperiously  he  leaps,  he  neighs,  he  bounds, 
And  now  his  woven  girths  he  breaks  asunder; 
The  bearing  earth  with  his  hard  hoof  he  wounds, 
Whose  hollow  womb  resounds  like  heaven's  thunder; 
The  iron  bit  he  crushes  'tween  his  teeth, 
Controlling  what  he  was  controlled  with.  270 

His  ears  up-prick'd ;  his  braided  hanging  mane 
Upon  his  compass'd  crest  now  stand  on  end; 
His  nostrils  drink  the  air,  and  forth  again, 
As  from  a  furnace,  vapours  doth  he  send; 


SHAKESPEAR&S  POEMS. 

His  eye,  which  scornfully  glisters  like  fire, 
Shows  his  hot  courage  and  his  high  desire. 

Sometime  he  trots,  as  if  he  told  the  steps, 

With  gentle  majesty  and  modest  pride; 

Anon  he  rears  upright,  curvets,  and  leaps, 

As  who  should  say  '  Lo,  thus  my  strength  is  tried,       280 
And  this  I  do  to  captivate  the  eye 
Of  the  fair  breeder  that  is  standing  by.' 

What  recketh  he  his  rider's  angry  stir, 

His  flattering  '  Holla,'  or  his  '  Stand,  I  say'? 

What  cares  he  now  for  curb  or  pricking  spur? 

For  rich  caparisons  or  trapping  gay? 

He  sees  his  love,  and  nothing  else  he  sees, 
For  nothing  else  with  his  proud  sight  agrees. 

Look,  when  a  painter  would  surpass  the  life, 
In  limning  out  a  well-proportion'd  steed,  290 

His  art  with  nature's  workmanship  at  strife, 
As  if  the  dead  the  living  should  exceed ; 
So  did  this  horse  excel  a  common  one 
In  shape,  in  courage,  colour,  pace,  and  bone. 

Round-hoof'd,  short-jointed,  fetlocks  shag  and  long, 
Broad  breast,  full  eye,  small  head,  and  nostril  wide, 
High  crest,  short  ears,  straight  legs  and  passing  strong, 
Thin  mane,  thick  tail,  broad  buttock,  tender  hide  : 
Look,  what  a  horse  should  have  he  did  not  lack, 
Save  a  proud  rider  on  so  proud  a  back.  3oo 

Sometime  he  scuds  far  off,  and  there  he  stares; 

Anon  he  starts  at  stirring  of  a  feather; 

To  bid  the  wind  a  base  he  now  prepares, 

And  whether  he  run  or  fly  they  know  not  whether; 
For  through  his  mane  and  tail  the  high  wind  sings, 
Fanning  the  hairs,  who  wave  like  feather'd  wings. 


VENUS  AND   ADONIS.  -- 

He  looks  upon  his  love  and  neighs  unto  her; 
She  answers  him  as  if  she  knew  his  mind : 
Being  proud,  as  females  are,  to  see  him  woo  her, 
She  puts  on  outward  strangeness,  seems  unkind,         310 
Spurns  at  his  love  and  scorns  the  heat  he  feels, 
Beating  his  kind  embracements  with  her  heels. 

Then,  like  a  melancholy  malcontent, 

He  vails  his  tail  that,  like  a  falling  plume, 

Cool  shadow  to  his  melting  buttock  lent; 

He  stamps  and  bites  the  poor  flies  in  his  fume. 
His  love,  perceiving  how  he  is  enrag'd, 
Grew  kinder,  and  his  fury  was  assuag'd. 

His  testy  master  goeth  about  to  take  him; 

When,  lo,  the  unback'd  breeder,  full  of  fear,  320 

Jealous  of  catching,  swiftly  doth  forsake  him, 

With  her  the  horse,  and  left  Adonis  there : 

As  they  were  mad,  unto  the  wood  they  hie  them, 
Out-stripping  crows  that  strive  to  over-fly  them. 

All  swoln  with  chafing,  down  Adonis  sits, 
Banning  his  boisterous  and  unruly  beast: 
And  now  the  happy  season  once  more  fits, 
That  love-sick  Love  by  pleading  may  be  blest; 
For  lovers  say,  the  heart  hath  treble  wrong 
When  it  is  barr'd  the  aidance  of  the  tongue.  330 

An  oven  that  is  stopp'd,  or  river  stay'd, 
Burneth  more  hotly,  swelleth  with  more  rage: 
So  of  concealed  sorrow  may  be  said ; 
Free  vent  of  words  love's  fire  doth  assuage; 

But  when  the  heart's  attorney  once  is  mute. 

The  client  breaks,  as  desperate  in  his  suit. 

He  sees  her  coming,  and  begins  to  glow, 
Even  as  a  dying  coal  revives  with  wind, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

And  with  his  bonnet  hides  his  angry  brow; 

Looks  on  the  dull  earth  with  disturbed  mind,  340 

Taking  no  notice  that  she  is  so  nigh, 
Jior  all  askance  he  holds  her  in  his  eye. 

O,  what  a  sight  it  was,  wistly  to  view 
How  she  came  stealing  to  the  wayward  boy! 
To  note  the  fighting  conflict  of  her  hue, 
How  white  and  red  each  other  did  destroy ! 
But  now  her  cheek  was  pale,  and  by  and  by 
It  flash'd  forth  fire,  as  lightning  from  the  sky. 

Now  was  she  just  before  him  as  he  sat, 

And  like  a  lowly  lover  down  she  kneels;  350 

With  one  fair  hand  she  heaveth  up  his  hat, 

Her  other  tender  hand  his  fair  cheek  feels: 

His  tenderer  cheek  receives  her  soft  hand's  print, 
As  apt  as  new-fallen  snow  takes  any  dint. 

O,  what  a  war  of  looks  was  then  between  them  ! 

Her  eyes  petitioners  to  his  eyes  suing; 

His  eyes  saw  her  eyes  as  they  had  not  seen  them ; 

Her  eyes  woo'd  still,  his  eyes  disdain'd  the  wooing  : 
And  all  this  dumb  play  had  his  acts  made  plain 
With  tears,  which,  chorus-like,  her  eyes  did  rain.      3^ 

Full  gently  now  she  takes  him  by  the  hand, 

A  lily  prison'd  in  a  gaol  of  snow, 

Or  ivory  in  an  alabaster  band  : 

So  white  a  friend  engirts  so  white  a  foe: 

This  beauteous  combat,  wilful  and  unwilling, 
Show'd  like  two  silver  doves  that  sit  a-billing. 

Once  more  the  engine  of  her  thoughts  began : 

*O  fairest  mover  on  this  mortal  round, 

Would  thou  wert  as  I  am,  and  I  a  man, 

My  heart  all  whole  as  thine,  thy  heart  my  wound  ;      370 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS. 

For  one  sweet  look  thy  help  I  would  assure  thee, 
Though  nothing  but  my  body's  bane  would  cure  thee.' 

'Give  me  my  hand/  saith  he, '  why  dost  thou  feel  it?' 
1  Give  me  my  heart,'  saith  she, '  and  thou  shalt  have  it ; 
O,  give  it  me,  lest  thy  hard  heart  do  steel  it, 
And  being  steel'd,  soft  sighs  can  never  grave  it : 
Then  love's  deep  groans  I  never  shall  regard, 
Because  Adonis'  heart  hath  made  mine  hard.' 

*  For  shame,'  he  cries, '  let  go,  and  let  me  go; 

My  day's  delight  is  past,  my  horse  is  gone,  380 

And  't  is  your  fault  I  am  bereft  him  so: 

I  pray  you  hence,  and  leave  me  here  alone; 
For  all  my  mind,  my  thought,  my  busy  care, 
Is  how  to  get  my  palfrey  from  the  mare.' 

Thus  she  replies:  'Thy  palfrey,  as  he  should, 
Welcomes  the  warm  approach  of  sweet  desire : 
Affection  is  a  coal  that  must  be  cool'd ; 
Else,  suffer'd,  it  will  set  the  heart  on  fire: 

The  sea  hath  bounds,  but  deep  desire  hath  none; 

Therefore  no  marvel  though  thy  horse  be  gone.       390 

'  How  like  a  jade  he  stood,  tied  to  the  tree, 

Servilely  master'd  with  a  leathern  rein  ! 

But  when  he  saw  his  love,  his  youth's  fair  fee, 

He  held  such  petty  bondage  in  disdain ; 

Throwing  the  base  thong  from  his  bending  crest, 
Enfranchising  his  mouth,  his  back,  his  breast. 

'Who  sees  his  true-love  in  her  naked  bed, 
Teaching  the  sheets  a  whiter  hue  than  white, 
But,  when  his  glutton  eye  so  full  hath  fed, 
His  other  agents  aim  at  like  delight?  400 

Who  is  so  faint  that  dares  not  be  so  bold 
To  touch  the  fire,  the  weather  being  cold  ? 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

I  Let  me  excuse  thy  courser,  gentle  boy; 
And  learn  of  him,  I  heartily  beseech  thee, 
To  take  advantage  on  presented  joy ; 

Though  I  were  dumb,  yet  his  proceedings  teach  thee  : 
O,  learn  to  love ;  the  lesson  is  but  plain, 
And  once  made  perfect,  never  lost  again.' 

I 1  know  not  love,'  quoth  he, '  nor  will  not  know  it, 
Unless  it  be  a  boar,  and  then  I  chase  it;  410 
'T  is  much  to  borrow,  and  I  will  not  owe  it ; 

My  love  to  love  is  love  but  to  disgrace  it; 
For  I  have  heard  it  is  a  life  in  death, 
That  laughs  and  weeps,  and  all  but  with  a  breath. 

*  Who  wears  a  garment  shapeless  and  unfinished  ? 
Who  plucks  the  bud  before  one  leaf  put  forth  ? 
If  springing  things  be  any  jot  diminish'd, 

They  wither  in  their  prime,  prove  nothing  worth ; 
The  colt  that 's  back'd  and  burden'd  being  young 
Loseth  his  pride  and  never  waxeth  strong.  420 

*  You  hurt  my  hand  with  wringing ;  let  us  part, 
And  leave  this  idle  theme,  this  bootless  chat: 
Remove  your  siege  from  my  unyielding  heart; 
To  love's  alarms  it  will  not  ope  the  gate: 

Dismiss  your  vows,  your  feigned  tears,  your  flattery; 
For  where  a  heart  is  hard  they  make  no  battery.' 

'  What !  canst  thou  talk  ?'  quoth  she, '  hast  thou  a  tongue  ? 

O,  would  thou  haclst  not,  or  I  had  no  hearing ! 

Thy  mermaid's  voice  hath  done  me  double  wrong; 

I  had  my  load  before,  now  press'd  with  bearing :          430 
Melodious  discord,  heavenly  tune  harsh-sounding, 
Ear's  deep-sweet  music,  and  heart's  deep-sore  wound- 
ing. 


VENUS  AND  AD.ONIS.  57 

i  Had  I  no  eyes  but  ears,  my  ears  would  love 

That  inward  beauty  and  invisible; 

Or  were  I  deaf,  thy  outward  parts  would  move 

Each  part  in  me  that  were  but  sensible : 

Though  neither  eyes  nor  ears,  to  hear  nor  see, 
Yet  should  I  be  in  love  by  touching  thee. 

1  Say,  that  the  sense  of  feeling  were  bereft  me, 
And  that  I  could  not  see,  nor  hear,  nor  touch,  440 

And  nothing  but  the  very  smell  were  left  me, 
Yet  would  my  love  to  thee  be  still  as  much ; 
For  from  the  stillitory  of  thy  face  excelling 
Comes  breath  perfum'd  that  breedeth  love  by  smelling. 

4  But,  O,  what  banquet  wert  thou  to  the  taste, 

Being  nurse  and  feeder  of  the  other  four! 

Would  they  not  wish  the  feast  might  ever  last, 

And  bid  Suspicion  double-lock  the  door, 
Lest  Jealousy,  that  sour  unwelcome  guest, 
Should,  by  his  stealing  in,  disturb  the  feast  ?'  450 

Once  more  the  ruby-colour'd  portal  open'cl, 
Which  to  his  speech  did  honey  passage  yield; 
Like  a  red  morn,  that  ever  yet  betoken'd 
Wrack  to  the  seaman,  tempest  to  the  field, 
Sorrow  to  shepherds,  woe  unto  the  birds, 
Gusts  and  foul  flaws  to  herdmen  and  to  herds. 

This  ill  presage  advisedly  she  marketh ; 
Even  as  the  wind  is  hush'd  before  it  raineth, 
Or  as  the  wolf  doth  grin  before  he  barketh, 
Or  as  the  berry  breaks  before  it  staineth,  *'*> 

Or  like  the  deadly  bullet  of  a  gun, 
His  meaning  struck  her  ere  his  words  begun. 

And  at  his  look  she  flatly  falleth  down, 

For  looks  kill  love  and  love  by  looks  reviveth ; 


5g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

A  smile  recures  the  wounding  of  a  frown ; 

But  blessed  bankrupt,  that  by  love  so  thriveth  ! 
The  silly  boy,  believing  she  is  dead, 
Claps  her  pale  cheek,  till  clapping  makes  it  red ; 

And  all  amaz'd  brake  off  his  late  intent, 

For  sharply  he  did  think  to  reprehend  her,  47° 

Which  cunning  love  did  wittily  prevent: 

Fair  fall  the  wit  that  can  so  well  defend  her ! 
For  on  the  grass  she  lies  as  she  were  slain, 
Till  his  breath  breatheth  life  in  her  again. 

He  wrings  her  nose,  he  strikes  her  on  the  cheeks, 
He  bends  her  fingers,  holds  her  pulses  hard, 
He  chafes  her  lips ;  a  thousand  ways  he  seeks 
To  mend  the  hurt  that  his  unkindness  marr'd : 
He  kisses  her;  and  she,  by  her  good  will, 
Will  never  rise,  so  he  will  kiss  her  still.  480 

The  night  of  sorrow  now  is  turn'd  to  day; 
Her  two  blue  windows  faintly  she  upheaveth, 
Like  the  fair  sun,  when  in  his  fresh  array 
He  cheers  the  morn  and  all  the  earth  relieveth ; 

And  as  the  bright  sun  glorifies  the  sky, 

So  is  her  face  illumin'd  with  her  eye, 

Whose  beams  upon  his  hairless  face  are  fix'd, 
As  if  from  thence  they  borrow'd  all  their  shine. 
Were  never  four  such  lamps  together  mix'd, 
Had  not  his  clouded  with  his  brow's  repine ;  490 

But  hers,  which  through  the  crystal  tears  gave  light, 
Shone  like  the  moon  in  water  seen  by  night. 

'  O,  where  am  I  ?'  quoth  she, '  in  earth  or  heaven, 
Or  in  the  ocean  drench'd,  or  in  the  fire  ? 
What  hour  is  this  ?  or  morn  or  weary  even  ? 
Do  I  delight  to  die,  or  life  desire  ? 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  eg 

But  now  I  liv'd,  and  life  was  death's  annoy ; 
But  now  I  died,  and  death  was  lively  joy. 

*O,  thou  didst  kill  me;  kill  me  once  again : 
Thy  eyes'  shrewd  tutor,  that  hard  heart  of  thine,          500 
Hath  taught  them  scornful  tricks  and  such  disdain 
That  they  have  murther'd  this  poor  heart  of  mine ; 
And  these  mine  eyes,  true  leaders  to  their  queen, 
But  for  thy  piteous  lips  no  more  had  seen. 

'Long  may  they  kiss  each  other  for  this  cure ! 

O,  never  let  their  crimson  liveries  wear ! 

And  as  they  last,  their  verdure  still  endure, 

To  drive  infection  from  the  dangerous  year ! 
That  the  star-gazers,  having  writ  on  death, 
May  say,  the  plague  is  banish'd  by  thy  breath.  s«o 

'Pure  lips,  sweet  seals  in  my  soft  lips  imprinted, 
What  bargains  may  I  make,  still  to  be  sealing  ? 
To  sell  myself  I  can  be  well  contented, 
So  thou  wilt  buy  and  pay  and  use  good  dealing; 
Which  purchase  if  thou  make,  for  fear  of  slips 
Set  thy  seal-manual  on  my  wax-red  lips. 

'A  thousand  kisses  buys  my  heart  from  me; 

And  pay  them  at  thy  leisure,  one  by  one. 

What  is  ten  hundred  touches  unto  thee  ? 

Are  they  not  quickly  told  and  quickly  gone  ?  s*> 

Say,  for  non-payment  that  the  debt  should  double, 
Is  twenty  hundred  kisses  such  a  trouble  ?' 

i  Fair  queen,'  quoth  he, '  if  any  love  you  owe  me, 
Measure  my  strangeness  with  my  unripe  years : 
Before  I  know  myself,  seek  not  to  know  me; 
No  fisher  but  the  ungrown  fry  forbears : 

The  mellow  plum  doth  fall,  the  green  sticks  fast, 

Or  being  early  pluck'd  is  sour  to  taste. 


6o  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'Look,  the  world's  comforter,  with  weary  gait, 
His  day's  hot  task  hath  ended  in  the  west;  53° 

The  owl,  night's  herald,  shrieks,  "  'T  is  very  late  ;" 
The  sheep  are  gone  to  fold,  birds  to  their  nest, 
And  coal-black  clouds  that  shadow  heaven's  light 
Do  summon  us  to  part  and  bid  good  night. 

'  Now  let  me  say  "  Good  night,"  and  so  say  you ; 
If  you  will  say  so,  you  shall  have  a  kiss.' 
'Good  night,'  quoth  she,  and,  ere  he  says  'Adieu/ 
The  honey  fee  of  parting  tender'd  is: 

Her  arms  do  lend  his  neck  a  sweet  embrace; 

Incorporate  then  they  seem ;  face  grows  to  face :      54^ 

Till,  breathless,  he  disjoin'd,  and  backward  drew 
The  heavenly  moisture,  that  sweet  coral  mouth, 
Whose  precious  taste  her  thirsty  lips  well  knew, 
Whereon  they  surfeit,  yet  complain  on  drouth: 
He  with  her  plenty  press'd,  she  faint  with  dearth, 
Their  lips  together  glued,  fall  to  the  earth. 

Now  quick  desire  hath  caught  the  yielding  prey, 

And  glutton-like  she  feeds,  yet  never  filleth; 

Her  lips  are  conquerors,  his  lips  obey, 

Paying  what  ransom  the  insulter  willeth;  550 

Whose  vulture  thought  doth  pitch  the  price  so  high. 
That  she  will  draw  his  lips'  rich  treasure  dry: 

0 

And  having  felt  the  sweetness  of  the  spoil, 
With  blindfold  fury  she  begins  to  forage; 
Her  face  doth  reek  and  smoke,  her  blood  doth  boil, 
And  careless  lust  stirs  up  a  desperate  courage; 
Planting  oblivion,  beating  reason  back, 
Forgetting  shame's  pure  blush  and  honour's  wracL 

Hot,  faint,  and  weary,  with  her  hard  embracing, 

Like  a  wild  bird  being  tam'd  with  too  much  handling, 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS. 


61 


Or  as  the  fleet-foot  roe  that  's  tir'd  with  chasing,         561 
Or  like  the  froward  infant  still'd  with  dandling, 
He  now  obeys,  and  now  no  more  resisteth, 
While  she  takes  all  she  can,  not  all  she  listeth. 

What  wax  so  frozen  but  dissolves  with  tempering, 
And  yields  at  last  to  every  light  impression  ? 
Things  out  of  hope  are  compass'd  oft  with  venturing, 
Chiefly  in  love,  whose  leave  exceeds  commission; 
Affection  faints  not  like  a  pale-fac'd  coward, 
But  then  wooes  best  when  most  his  choice  is  froward. 

When  he  did  frown,  O,  had  she  then  gave  over,  571 

Such  nectar  from  his  lips  she  had  not  suck'd. 

Foul  words  and  frowns  must  not  repel  a  lover; 

What  though  the  rose  have  prickles,  yet  't  is  pluck'd: 
Were  beauty  under  twenty  locks  kept  fast, 
Yet  love  breaks  through  and  picks  them  all  at  last. 

For  pity  now  she  can  no  more  detain  him ; 

The  poor  fool  prays  her  that  he  may  depart: 

She  is  resolv'd  no  longer  to  restrain  him ; 

Bids  him  farewell,  and  look  well  to  her  heart,   •  580 

The  which,  by  Cupid's  bow  she  doth  protest, 
He  carries  thence  incaged  in  his  breast. 

'  Sweet  boy,'  she  says, '  this  night  I  '11  waste  in  sorrow, 

For  my  sick  heart  commands  mine  eyes  to  watch. 

Tell  me,  Love's  master,  shall  we  meet  to-morrow  ? 

Say,  shall  we  ?  shall  we  ?  wilt  thou  make  the  match  ?' 
He  tells  her,  no;  to-morrow  he  intends 
To  hunt  the  boar  with  certain  of  his  friends. 

4 The  boar!'  quoth  she;  whereat  a  sudden  pale, 
Like  lawn  being  spread  upon  the  blushing  rose,  59° 

Usurps  her  cheek ;  she  trembles  at  his  tale, 
And  on  his  neck  her  yoking  arms  she  throws: 


62  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

She  sinketh  down,  still  hanging  by  his  neck, 
He  on  her  belly  falls,  she  on  her  back. 

Now  is  she  in  the  very  lists  of  love, 

Her  champion  mounted  for  the  hot  encounter: 

All  is  imaginary  she  doth  prove, 

He  will  not  manage  her,  although  he  mount  her ; 
That  worse  than  Tantalus'  is  her  annoy, 
To  clip  Elysium  and  to  lack  her  joy.  600 

Even  as  poor  birds,  deceiv'd  with  painted  grapes, 

Do  surfeit  by  the  eye  and  pine  the  maw, 

Even  so  she  languisheth  in  her  mishaps, 

As  those  poor  birds  that  helpless  berries  saw. 
The  warm  effects  which  she  in  him  finds  missing 
She  seeks  to  kindle  with  continual  kissing. 

But  all  in  vain  ;  good  queen,  it  will  not  be : 

She  hath  assay'd  as  much  as  may  be  prov'd ; 

Her  pleading  hath  deserv'd  a  greater  fee ; 

She  's  Love,  she  loves,  and  yet  she  is  not  lov'd.  6m 

6  Fie,  fie/  he  says,  'you  crush  me;  let  me  go; 

You  have  no  reason  to  withhold  me  so.' 

*  Thou  hadst  been  gone,'  quoth  she, '  sweet  boy,  ere  this, 
But  that  thou  told'st  me  thou  wouldst  hunt  the  boar. 
O,  be  advis'd  !  thou  know'st  not  what  it  is 
With  javelin's  point  a  churlish  swine  to  gore, 

Whose  tushes  never  sheath'd  he  whetteth  still, 

Like  to  a  mortal  butcher  bent  to  kill. 

1  On  his  bow-back  he  hath  a  battle  set 

Of  bristly  pikes,  that  ever  threat  his  foes ;  620 

His  eyes,  like  glow-worms,  shine  when  he  doth  fret ; 

His  snout  digs  sepulchres  where'er  he  goes; 
Being  mov'd,  he  strikes  whatever  is  in  his  way, 
And  whom  he  strikes  his  crooked  tushes  slay. 


VENUS  AND   ADONIS.  63 

1  His  brawny  sides,  with  hairy  bristles  arm'd, 

Are  better  proof  than  thy  spear's  point  can  enter; 

His  short  thick  neck  cannot  be  easily  harm'd; 

Being  ireful,  on  the  lion  he  will  venture: 

The  thorny  brambles  and  embracing  bushes, 

As  fearful  of  him,  part,  through  whom  he  rushes.     630 

'  Alas,  he  nought  esteems  that  face  of  thine, 
To  which  Love's  eyes  pay  tributary  gazes; 
Nor  thy  soft  hands,  sweet  lips,  and  crystal  eyne, 
Whose  full  perfection  all  the  world  amazes; 

But  having  thee  at  vantage, — wondrous  dread  ! — 
Would  root  these  beauties  as  he  roots  the  mead. 

<O,  let  him  keep  his  loathsome  cabin  still; 

Beauty  hath  nought  to  do  with  such  foul  fiends : 

Come  not  within  his  danger  by  thy  will; 

They  that  thrive  well  take  counsel  of  their  friends.      640 
When  thou  didst  name  the  boar,  not  to  dissemble, 
I  fear'd  thy  fortune,  and  my  joints  did  tremble. 

*  Didst  thou  not  mark  my  face  ?  was  it  not  white  ? 

Saw'st  thou  not  signs  of  fear  lurk  in  mine  eye  ? 

Grew  I  not  faint?  and  fell  I  not  downright? 

Within  -my  bosom,  whereon  thou  dost  lie, 

My  boding  heart  pants,  beats,  and  takes  no  rest, 
But,  like  an  earthquake,  shakes  thee  on  my  breast. 

'  For  where  Love  reigns,  disturbing  Jealousy 

Doth  call  himself  Affection's  sentinel;  6so 

Gives  false  alarms,  suggesteth  mutiny, 

And  in  a  peaceful  hour  doth  cry  "  Kill,  kill !" 

Distempering  gentle  Love  in  his  desire, 

As  air  and  water  do  abate  tr^e  fire. 

'This  sour  informer,  this  bate-breeding  spy, 
This  canker  that  eats  up  Love's  tender  spring, 
5 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

This  carry-tale,  dissentious  Jealousy, 

That  sometime  true  news,  sometime  false  doth  bring, 
Knocks  at  my  heart  and  whispers  in  mine  ear 
That  if  I  love  thee,  I  thy  death  should  fear :  660 

'  And  more  than  so,  presented!  to  mine  eye 
The  picture  of  an  angry-chafing  boar, 
Under  whose  sharp  fangs  on  his  back  doth  lie 
An  image  like  thyself,  all  stain'd  with  gore ; 
Whose  blood  upon  the  fresh  flowers  being  shed 
Doth  make  them  droop  with  grief  and  hang  the  head. 

4  What  should  I  do,  seeing  thee  so  indeed, 

That  tremble  at  the  imagination  ? 

The  thought  of  it  doth  make  my  faint  heart  bleed, 

And  fear  doth  teach  it  divination  ;  670 

I  prophesy  thy  death,  my  living  sorrow, 
If  thou  encounter  with  the  boar  to-morrow. 

'But  if  thou  needs  wilt  hunt,  be  rul'd  by  me; 

Uncouple  at  the  timorous  flying  hare, 

Or  at  the  fox,  which  lives  by  subtlety, 

Or  at  the  roe,  which  no  encounter  dare : 
Pursue  these  fearful  creatures  o'er  the  downs, 
And  on  thy  well-breath'd  horse  keep  with  thy  hounds. 

f  And  when  thou  hast  on  foot  the  purblind  hare, 
Mark  the  poor  wretch,  to  overshoot  his  troubles          680 
How  he  outruns  the  wind,  and  with  what  care 
He  cranks  and  crosses  with  a  thousand  doubles ; 

The  many  musits  through  the  which  he  goes 

Are  like  a  labyrinth  to  amaze  his  foes. 

1  Sometime  he  runs  among  a  flock  of  sheep, 
To  make  the  cunning  hounds  mistake  their  smell, 
And  sometime  where  earth-delving  conies  keep, 
To  stop  the  loud  pursuers  in  their  yell, 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  65 

And  sometime  sorteth  with  a  herd  of  deer; 

Danger  deviseth  shifts,  wit  waits  on  fear :  690 

1  For  there  his  smell  with  others  being  mingled, 
The  hot  scent-snuffing  hounds  are  driven  to  doubt, 
Ceasing  their  clamorous  cry  till  they  have  singled 
With  much  ado  the  cold  fault  cleanly  out; 

Then  do  they  spend  their  mouths :  Echo  replies, 

As  if  another  chase  were  in  the  skies. 

'  By  this,  poor  Wat,  far  off  upon  a  hill, 

Stands  on  his  hinder  legs  with  listening  ear, 

To  hearken  if  his  foes  pursue  him  still : 

Anon  their  loud  alarums  he  doth  hear;  700 

And  now  his  grief  may  be  compared  well 
To  one  sore  sick  that  hears  the  passing-bell. 

'Then  shalt  thou  see  the  dew-bedabbled  wretch 
Turn,  and  return,  indenting  with  the  way; 
Each  envious  brier  his  weary  legs  doth  scratch, 
Each  shadow  makes  him  stop,  each  murmur  stay: 

For  misery  is  trodden  on  by  many, 

And  being  low  never  relieved  by  any. 

1  Lie  quietly,  and  hear  a  little  more; 

Nay,  do  not  struggle,  for  thou  shalt  not  rise :  710 

To  make  thee  hate  the  hunting  of  the  boar, 

Unlike  myself  thou  hear'st  me  moralize, 

Applying  this  to  that,  and  so  to  so; 

For  love  can  comment  upon  every  woe. 

'  Where  did  I  leave  ?'     '  No  matter  where,'  quoth  he  ; 

'  Leave  me,  and  then  the  story  aptly  ends : 

The  night  is  spent/     '  Why,  what  of  that  ?'  quoth  she. 

6 1  am/  quoth  he, '  expected  of  my  friends ; 
And  now  't  is  dark,  and  going  I  shall  fall.' 
*  In  night,'  quoth  she, '  desire  sees  best  of  all.  7*° 


56  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

1  But  if  thou  fall,  O,  then  imagine  this, 

The  earth,  in  love  with  thee,  thy  footing  trips, 

And  all  is  but  to  rob  thee  of  a  kiss. 

Rich  preys  make  true  men  thieves;  so  do  thy  lips 
Make  modest  Dian  cloudy  and  forlorn, 
Lest  she  should  steal  a  kiss  and  die  forsworn. 

4  Now  of  this  dark  night  I  perceive  the  reason: 
Cynthia  for  shame  obscures  her  silver  shine, 
Till  forging  Nature  be  condemned  of  treason, 
For  stealing  moulds  from  heaven  that  were  divine ;     73° 
Wherein  she  fram'd  thee  in  high  heaven's  despite, 
To  shame  the  sun  by  day  and  her  by  night. 

1  And  therefore  hath  she  brib'd  the  Destinies 
To  cross  the  curious  workmanship  of  nature, 
To  mingle  beauty  with  infirmities, 
And  pure  perfection  with  impure  defeature, 
Making  it  subject  to  the  tyranny 
Of  mad  mischances  and  much  misery; 

'  As  burning  fevers,  agues  pale  and  faint, 
Life-poisoning  pestilence  and  frenzies  wood,  740 

The  marrow-eating  sickness,  whose  attaint 
Disorder  breeds  by  heating  of  the  blood : 

Surfeits,  imposthumes,  grief,  and  damn'd  despair, 
Swear  Nature's  death  for  framing  thee  so  fair. 

*  And  not  the  least  of  all  these  maladies 
But  in  one  minute's  fight  brings  beauty  under: 
Both  favour,  savour,  hue,  and  qualities, 
Whereat  the  impartial  gazer  late  did  wonder, 
Are  on  the  sudden  wasted,  thaw'd,  and  done, 
As  mountain  snow  melts  with  the  mid-day  sun.        750 

'  Therefore,  despite  of  fruitless  chastity, 
Love-lacking  vestals  and  self-loving  nuns, 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  5. 

That  on  the  earth  would  breed  a  scarcity 
And  barren  dearth  of  daughters  and  of  sons, 
Be  prodigal;  the  lamp  that  burns  by  night 
Dries  up  his  oil  to  lend  the  world  his  light. 

'  What  is  thy  body  but  a  swallowing  grave, 

Seeming  to  bury  that  posterity 

Which  by  the  rights  of  time  thou  needs  must  have, 

If  thou  destroy  them  not  in  dark  obscurity  ?  '  760 

If  so,  the  world  will  hold  thee  in  disdain, 
Sith  in  thy  pride  so  fair  a  hope  is  slain. 

1  So  in  thyself  thyself  art  made  away; 
A  mischief  worse  than  civil  home-bred  strife, 
Or  theirs  whose  desperate  hands  themselves  do  slay, 
Or  butcher-sire  that  reaves  his  son  of  life. 
Foul-cankering  rust  the  hidden  treasure  frets, 
But  gold  that  's  put  to  use  more  gold  begets.' 

4  Nay,  then/  quoth  Adon,  '  you  will  fall  again 
Into  your  idle  over-handled  theme :  770 

The  kiss  I  gave  you  is  bestow'd  in  vain, 
And  all  in  vain  you  strive  against  the  stream; 
For,  by  this  black-fac'd  night,  desire's  foul  nurse, 
Your  treatise  makes  me  like  you  worse  and  worse. 

'  If  love  have  lent  you  twenty  thousand  tongues. 
And  every  tongue  more  moving  than  your  own, 
Bewitching  like  the  wanton  mermaid's  songs, 
Yet  from  mine  ear  the  tempting  tune  is  blown ; 
For  know,  my  heart  stands  armed  in  mine  ear, 
And  will  not  let  a  false  sound  enter  there,  780 

'Lest  the  deceiving  harmony  should  run 
Into  the  quiet  closure  of  my  breast; 
And  then  my  little  heart  were  quite  undone, 
In  his  bedchamber  to  be  barr'd  of  rest. 


68  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

No,  lady,  no;  my  heart  longs  not  to  groan, 
But  soundly  sleeps,  while  now  it  sleeps  alone. 

*  What  have  you  urg'd  that  I  cannot  reprove  ? 

The  path  is  smooth  that  leadeth  on  to  danger: 

I  hate  not  love,  but  your  device  in  love, 

That  lends  embracements  unto  every  stranger.  790 

You  do  it  for  increase;  O  strange  excuse, 
When  reason  is  the  bawd  to  lust's  abuse ! 

1  Call  it  not  love,  for  Love  to  heaven  is  fled, 
Since  sweating  Lust  on  earth  usurp'd  his  name; 
Under  whose  simple  semblance  he  hath  fed 
Upon  fresh-beauty,  blotting  it  with  blame; 

Which  the  hot  tyrant  stains  and  soon  bereaves, 

As  caterpillars  do  the  tender  leaves. 

4  Love  comforteth  like  sunshine  after  rain, 
But  Lust's  effect  is  tempest  after  sun ;  SOQ 

Love's  gentle  spring  doth  always  fresh  remain, 
Lust's  winter  comes  ere  summer  half  be  done; 

Love  surfeits  not,  Lust  like  a  glutton  dies; 

Love  is  all  truth,  Lust  full  of  forged  lies. 

'More  I  could  tell,  but  more  I  dare  not  say; 

The  text  is  old,  the  orator  too  green. 

Therefore,  in  sadness,  now  I  will  away: 

My  face  is  full  of  shame,  my  heart  of  teen ; 
Mine  ears,  that  to  your  wanton  talk  attended, 
Do  burn  themselves  for  having  so  offended.'  8ia 

With  this,  he  breaketh  from  the  sweet  embrace 
Of  those  fair  arms  which  bound  him  to  her  breast, 
And  homeward  through  the  dark  laund  runs  apace, 
Leaves  Love  upon  her  back  deeply  distress'd. 
Look,  how  a  bright  star  shooteth  from  the  sky, 
So  glides  he  in  the  night  from  Venus'  eye; 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  6g 

Which  after  him  she  darts,  as  one  on  shore 
Gazing  upon  a  late-embarked  friend, 
Till  the  wild  waves  will  have  him  seen  no  more, 
Whose  ridges  with  the  meeting  clouds  contend :          8ao 
So  did  the  merciless  and  pitchy  night 
Fold  in  the  object  that  did  feed  her  sight. 

Whereat  amaz'd,  as  one  that  unaware 
Hath  dropp'd  a  precious  jewel  in  the  flood, 
Or  'stonish'd  as  night-wanderers  often  are, 
Their  light  blown  out  in  some  mistrustful  wood, 
Even  so  confounded  in  the  dark  she  lay, 
Having  lost  the  fair  discovery  of  her  way. 

And  now  she  beats  her  heart,  whereat  it  groans, 

That  all  the  neighbour  caves,  as  seeming  troubled,     s30 

Make  verbal  repetition  of  her  moans; 

Passion  on  passion  deeply  is  redoubled : 

'  Ay  me  !'  she  cries,  and  twenty  times  '  Woe,  woe  !' 
And  twenty  echoes  twenty  times  cry  so. 

She  marking  them  begins  a  wailing  note 

And  sings  extemporally  a  woeful  ditty: 

How  love  makes  young  men  thrall  and  old  men  dote; 

How  love  is  wise  in  folly,  foolish-witty. 
Her  heavy  anthem  still  concludes  in  woe, 
And  still  the  choir  of  echoes  answer  so.  840 

Her  song  was  tedious  and  outwore  the  night, 
For  lovers'  hours  are  long,  though  seeming  short  ; 
If  pleas'd  themselves,  others,  they  think,  delight 
In  such-like  circumstance,  with  such-like  sport; 
Their  copious  stories  oftentimes  begun 
End  without  audience  and  are  never  done. 

For  who  hath  she  to  spend  the  night  withal 
But  idle  sounds  resembling  parasites, 


70  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Like  shrill-tongued  tapsters  answering  every  call. 
Soothing  the  humour  of  fantastic  wits  ?  850 

She  says  '  'T  is  so :'  they  answer  all  '  'T  is  so/ 
And  would  say  after  her,  if  she  said  '  No.' 

Lo,  here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest, 
From  his  moist  cabinet  mo'unts  up  on  high, 
And  wakes  the  morning,  from  whose  silver  breast 
The  sun  ariseth  in  his  majesty; 

Who  doth  the  world  so  gloriously  behold 
That  cedar-tops  and  hills  seem  burnish'd  gold. 

Venus  salutes  him  with  this  fair  good-morrow : 
4  O  thou  clear  god,  and  patron  of  all  light,  S6c 

From  whom  each  lamp  and  shining  star  doth  borrow 
The  beauteous  influence  that  makes  him  bright, 
There  lives  a  son  that  suck'd  an  earthly  mother, 
May  lend  thee. light,  as  thou  dost  lend  to  other/ 

This  said,  she  hasteth  to  a  myrtle  grove, 
Musing  the  morning  is  so  much  o'erworn, 
And  yet  she  hears  no  tidings  of  her  love : 
She  hearkens  for  his  hounds  and  for  his  horn  ; 

Anon  she  hears  them  chant  it  lustily, 

And  all  in  haste  she  coasteth  to  the  cry.  87o 

And  as  she  runs,  the  bushes  in  the  way 
Some  catch  her  by  the  neck,  some  kiss  her  face, 
Some  twine  about  her  thigh  to  make  her  stay; 
She  wildly  breaketh  from  their  strict  embrace, 
Like  a  milch  doe,  whose  swelling  dugs  do  ache, 
Hasting  to  feed  her  fawn  hid  in  some  brake. 

By  this,  she  hears  the  hounds  are  at  a  bay ; 
Whereat  she  starts,  like  one  that  spies  an  adder 
Wreath'd  up  in  fatal  folds  just  in  his  way,  879 

The  fear  whereof  doth  make  him  shake  and  shudder : 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  71 

Even  so  the  timorous  yelping  of  the  hounds 
Appals  her  senses  and  her  spirit  confounds. 

For  now  she  knows  it  is  no  gentle  chase, 

But  the  blunt  boar,  rough  bear,  or  lion  proud, 

Because  the  cry  remaineth  in  one  place, 

Where  fearfully  the  dogs  exclaim  aloud ; 
Finding  their  enemy  to  be  so  curst, 
They  all  strain  courtesy  who  shall  cope  him  first. 

This  dismal  cry  rings  sadly  in  her  ear, 
Through  which  it  enters  to  surprise  her  heart,  890 

Who,  overcome  by  doubt  and  bloodless  fear, 
With  cold-pale  weakness  numbs  each  feeling  part ; 
Like  soldiers,  when  their  captain  once  doth  yield, 
They  basely  fly  and  dare  not  stay  the  field. 

Thus  stands  she  in  a  trembling  ecstasy, 

Till,  cheering  up  her  senses  all  dismay'd, 

She  tells  them  't  is  a  causeless  fantasy, 

And  childish  error,  that  they  are  afraid; 

Bids  them  leave  quaking,  bids  them  fear  no  more : — 
And  with  that  word  she  spied  the  hunted  boar,       900 

Whose  frothy  mouth,  bepainted  all  with  red, 
Like  milk  and  blood  being  mingled  both  together, 
A  second  fear  through  all  her  sinews  spread, 
Which  madly  hurries  her  she  knows  not  whither: 
This  way  she  runs,  and  now  she  will  no  further, 
But  back  retires  to  rate  the  boar  for  murther. 

A  thousand  spleens  bear  her  a  thousand  ways; 

She  treads  the  path  that  she  untreads  again; 

Her  more  than  haste  is  mated  with  delays, 

Like  the  proceedings  of  a  drunken  brain,  9«> 

Full  of  respects,  yet  nought  at  all  respecting, 
In  hand  with  all  things,  nought  at  all  effecting. 


72  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Here  kennell'd  in  a  brake  she  finds  a  hound, 
And  asks  the  weary  caitiff  for  his  master, 
And  there  another  licking  of  his  wound, 
'Gainst  venom'd  sores  the  only  sovereign  plaster ; 
And  here  she  meets  another  sadly  scowling, 
To  whom  she  speaks,  and  he  replies  with  howling. 

When  he  hath  ceas'd  his  ill-resounding  noise, 
Another  flap-mouth'd  mourner,  black  and  grim,  9*c 

Against  the  welkin  volleys  out  his  voice; 
Another  and  another  answer  him, 

Clapping  their  proud  tails  to  the  ground  below. 
Shaking  their  scratch'd  ears,  bleeding  as  they  go. 

Look,  how  the  world's  poor  people  are  amaz'd 

At  apparitions,  signs,  and  prodigies, 

Whereon  with  fearful  eyes  they  long  have  gaz'd, 

Infusing  them  with  dreadful  prophecies; 

So  she  at  these  sad  signs  draws  up  her  breath, 

And,  sighing  it  again,  exclaims  on  Death.  930 

1  Hard-favour'd  tyrant,  ugly,  meagre,  lean, 
Hateful  divorce  of  love/ — thus  chides  she  Death, — 
4  Grim-grinning  ghost,  earth's  worm,  what  dost  thou  mean 
To  stifle  beauty  and  to  steal  his  breath 

Who,  when  he  liv'd,  his  breath  and  beauty  set 

Gloss  on  the  rose,  smell  to  the  violet  ? 

*  If  he  be  dead, — O  no,  it  cannot  be, 

Seeing  his  beauty,  thou  shouldst  strike  at  it : — 

O  yes,  it  may ;  thou  hast  no  eyes  to  see, 

But  hatefully  at  random  dost  thou  hit.  940 

Thy  mark  is  feeble  age,  but  thy  false  dart 
Mistakes  that  aim  and  cleaves  an  infant's  heart. 

'  Hadst  thou  but  bid  beware,  then  he  had  spoke, 
And,  hearing  him,  thy  power  had  lost  his  power. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  ?3 

The  Destinies  will  curse  thee  for  this  stroke  ; 

They  bid  thee  crop  a  weed,  thou  pluck'st  a  flower : 
Love's  ^golden  arrow  at  him  should  have  fled, 
And  not  Death's  ebon  dart,  to  strike  him  dead. 

6  Dost  thou  drink  tears,  that  thou  provok'st  such  weeping? 

What  may  a  heavy  groan  advantage  thee?  950 

Why  hast  thou  cast  into  eternal  sleeping 

Those  eyes  that  taught  all  other  eyes  to  see  ? 
Now  Nature  cares  not  for  thy  mortal  vigour, 
Since  her  best  work  is  ruin'd  with  thy  rigour/ 

Here  overcome,  as  one  full  of  despair, 
She  vail'd  her  eyelids,  who,  like  sluices,  stopt 
The  crystal  tide  that  from  her  two  cheeks  fair 
In  the  sweet  channel  of  her  bosom  dropt ; 

But  through  the  flood-gates  breaks  the  silver  rain, 
And  with  his  strong  course  opens  them  again.         960 

O,  how  her  eyes  and  tears  did  lend  and  borrow ! 

Her  eyes  seen  in  the  tears,  tears  in  her  eye; 

Both  crystals,  where  they  view'd  each  other's  sorrow, 

Sorrow  that  friendly  sighs  sought  still  to  dry; 
But  like  a  stormy  day,  now  wind,  now  rain, 
Sighs -dry  her  cheeks,  tears  make  them  wet  again. 

Variable  passions  throng  her  constant  woe, 

As  striving  who  should  best  becorne  her  grief; 

All  entertained,  each  passion  labours  so, 

That  every  present  sorrow  seemeth  chief,  97° 

But  none  is  best :  then  join  they  all  together, 
Like  many  clouds  consulting  for  foul  weather. 

By  this,  far  off  she  hears  some  huntsman  hollo ; 
A  nurse's  song  ne'er  pleas'd  her  babe  so  well : 
The  dire  imagination  she  did  follow 
This  sound  of  hope  doth  labour  to  expel ; 


74  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

For  now  reviving  joy  bids  her  rejoice, 
And  flatters  her  it  is  Adonis'  voice. 

Whereat  her  tears  began  to  turn  their  tide, 
Being  prison'd  in  her  eye  like  pearls  in  glass ;  980 

Yet  sometimes  falls  an  orient  drop  beside, 
Which  her  cheek  melts,  as  scorning  it  should  pass, 
To  wash  the  foul  face  of  the  sluttish  ground, 
Who  is  but  drunken  when  she  seemeth  drown'd. 

0  hard-believing  love,  how  strange  it  seems 
Not  to  believe,  and  yet  too  credulous ! 

Thy  weal  and  woe  are  both  of  them  extremes ; 

Despair  and  hope  makes  thee  ridiculous : 

The  one  doth  flatter  thee  in  thoughts  unlikely, 

In  likely  thoughts  the  other  kills  thee  quickly.         990 

Now  she  unweaves  the  web  that  she  hath  wrought ; 

Adonis  lives,  and  Death  is  not  to  blame ; 

It  was  not  she  that  call'd  him  all  to  naught : 

Now  she  adds  honours  to  his  hateful  name ; 

She  clepes  him  king  of  graves  and  grave  for  kings, 
Imperious  supreme  of  all  mortal  things. 

1  No,  no,'  quoth  she, '  sweet  Death,  I  did  bqt  jest ; 
Yet  pardon  me  I  felt  a  kind  of  fear 

Whenas  I  met  the  boar,  that  bloody  beast, 
Which  knows  no  pity,  but  is  still  severe ;  uxx> 

Then,  gentle  shadow, — truth  I  must  confess,— 
I  rail'd  on  thee,  fearing  my  love's  decease. 

'  T  is  not  my  fault ;  the  boar  provok'd  my  tongue : 

Be  wreak'd  on  him,  invisible  commander; 

T  is  he,  foul  creature,  that  hath  done  thee  wrong ; 

I  did  but  act,  he  's  author  of  thy  slander : 

Grief  hath  two  tongues,  and  never  woman  yet 
Could  rule  them  both  without  ten  women's  wit.' 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  ~ 

Thus  hoping  that  Adonis  is  alive, 

Her  rash  suspect  she  doth  extenuate  ;  I0i0 

And  that  his  beauty  may  the  better  thrive, 

With  Death  she  humbly  doth  insinuate ; 

Tells  him  of  trophies,  statues,  tombs,  and  stories 
His  victories,  his  triumphs,  and  his  glories. 

'O  Jove,'  quoth  she,  'how  much  a  fool  was  I 

To  be  of  such  a  weak  and  silly  mind 

To  wail  his  death  who  lives  and  must  not  die 

Till  mutual  overthrow  of  mortal  kind! 

For  he  being  dead,  with  him  is  beauty  slain, 

And,  beauty  dead,  black  chaos  comes  again.  ioao 

'Fie,  fie,  fond  love,  thou  art  so  full  of  fear 
As  one  with  treasure  laden  hemm'd  with  thieves  ; 
Trifles,  unwitnessed  with  eye  or  ear, 
Thy  coward  heart  with  false  bethinking  grieves.' 
Even  at  this  word  she  hears  a  merry  horn, 
Whereat  she  leaps  that  was  but  late  forlorn. 

As  falcon  to  the  lure,  away  she  flies — 

The  grass  stoops  not,  she  treads  on  it  so  light — 

And  in  her  haste  unfortunately  spies 

The  foul  boar's  conquest  on  her  fair  delight ;  1030 

Which  seen,  her  eyes,  as  murther'd  with  the  view, 
Like  stars  asham'd  of  clay,  themselves  withdrew; 

Or,  as  the  snail,  whose  tender  horns  being  hit, 
Shrinks  backward  in  his  shelly  cave  with  pain, 
And  there,  all  smother'd  up,  in  shade  doth  sit, 
Long  after  fearing  to  creep  forth  again  ; 

So,  at  his  bloody  view,  her  eyes  are  fled 

Into  the  deep-dark  cabins  of  her  head, 

Where  they  resign  their  office  and  their  light 

To  the  disposing  of  her  troubled  brain  ;  1040 


7  6  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Who  bids  them  still  consort  with  ugly  night, 
And  never  wound  the  heart  with  looks  again  ; 
Who,  like  a  king  perplexed  in  his  throne, 
By  their  suggestion  gives  a  deadly  groan, 

Whereat  each  tributary  subject  quakes ; 
As  when  the  wind,  imprison'd  in  the  ground, 
Struggling  for  passage,  earth's  foundation  shakes, 
Which  with  cold  terror  doth  men's  minds  confound. 
This  mutiny  each  part  doth  so  surprise 
That  from  their  dark  beds  once  more  leap  her  eyes, 

And,  being  open'd,  threw  unwilling  light  1051 

Upon  the  wide  wound  that  the  boar  had  trench'd 
In  his  soft  flank,  whose  wonted  lily  white 
With  purple  tears  that  his  wound  wept  was  drench'd ; 
No  flower  was  nigh,  no  grass,  herb,  leaf,  or  weed, 
But  stole  his  blood  and  seem'd  with  him  to  bleed. 

This  solemn  sympathy  poor  Venus  noteth ; 

Over  one  shoulder  doth  she  hang  her  head  ; 

Dumbly  she  passions,  franticly  she  doteth  ; 

She  thinks  he  could  not  die,  he  is  not  dead  :  1060 

Her  voice  is  stopt,  her  joints  forget  to  bow ; 

Her  eyes  are  mad  that  they  have  wept  till  now. 

Upon  his  hurt  she  looks  so  steadfastly, 

That  her  sight  dazzling  makes  the  wound  seem  three ; 

And  then  she  reprehends  her  mangling  eye, 

That  makes  more  gashes  where  no  breach  should  be : 

His  face  seems  twain,  each  several  limb  is  doubled  ; 

For  oft  the  eye  mistakes,  the  brain  being  troubled. 

1  My  tongue  cannot  express  my  grief  for  one, 

And  yet,'  quoth  she, '  behold  two  Adons  dead  !  io7c 

My  sighs  are  blown  away,  my  salt  tears  gone, 

Mine  eyes  are  turn'd  to  fire,  my  heart  to  lead : 


VEX  US  AND  ADONIS.  77 

Heavy  heart's  lead,  melt  at  mine  eyes'  red  fire ! 
So  shall  I  die  by  drops  of  hot  desire. 

'  Alas,  poor  world,  what  treasure  hast  thou  lost ! 
What  face  remains  alive  that 's  worth  the  viewing? 
Whose  tongue  is  music  now  ?  what  canst  thou  boast 
Of  things  long  since,  or  any  thing  ensuing? 

The  flowers  are  sweet,  their  colours  fresh  and  trim  ; 

But  true-sweet  beauty  liv'd  and  died  with  him.        1080 

'  Bonnet  nor  veil  henceforth  no  creature  wear! 

Nor  sun  nor  wind  will  ever  strive  to  kiss  you  : 

Having  no  fair  to  lose,  you  need  not  fear ; 

The  sun  doth  scorn  you  and  the  wind  doth  hiss  you : 
But  when  Adonis  liv'd,  sun  and  sharp  air 
Lurk'd  like  two  thieves,  to  rob  him  of  his  fair. 

'  And  therefore  would  he  put  his  bonnet  on, 
Under  whose  brim  the  gaudy  sun  would  peep ; 
The  wind  would  blow  it  off  and,  being  gone, 
Play  with  his  locks  :  then  would  Adonis  weep  ;  1090 

And  straight,  in  pity  of  his  tender  years, 
They  both  would  strive  who  first  should  dry  his  tears. 

4  To  see  his  face  the  lion  walk'd  along 

Behind  some  hedge,  because  he  would  not  fear  him  ; 

To  recreate  himself  when  he  hath  sung, 

The  tiger  would  be  tame  and  gently  hear  him  ; 
If  he  had  spoke,  the  wolf  would  leave  his  prey, 
And  never  fright  the  silly  lamb  that  day. 

1  When  he  beheld  his  shadow  in  the  brook, 
The  fishes  spread  on  it  their  golden  gills ;  »oo 

When  he  was  by,  the  birds  such  pleasure  took, 
That  some  would  sing,  some  other  in  their  bills 

Would  bring  him  mulberries  and  ripe-red  cherries ; 

He  fed  them  with  his  sight,  they  him  with  berries. 


7  g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'  But  this  foul,  grim,  and  urchin-snouted  boar, 
Whose  downward  eye  still  looketh  for  a  grave, 
Ne'er  saw  the  beauteous  livery  that  he  wore  ; 
Witness  the  entertainment  that  he  gave: 
If  he  did  see  his  face,  why  then  I  know 
He  thought  to  kiss  him,  and  hath  kill'd  him  so.      n 

'  'T  is  true,  't  is  true  ;  thus  was  Adonis  slain  : 
He  ran  upon  the  boar  with  his  sharp  spear, 
Who  did  not  whet  his  teeth  at  him  again, 
But  by  a  kiss  thought  to  persuade  him  there  ; 
And  nuzzling  in  his  flank,  the  loving  swine 
Sheath'd  unaware  the  tusk  in  his  soft  groin. 

'  Had  I  been  tooth'd  like  him,  I  must  confess, 

With  kissing  him  I  should  have  kill'd  him  first ; 

But  he  is  dead,  and  never  did  he  bless 

My  youth  with  his ;  the  more  am  I  accurst/  n 

With  this,  she  falleth  in  the  place  she  stood, 
And  stains  her  face  with  his  congealed  blood. 

She  looks  upon  his  lips,  and  they  are  pale  ; 

She  takes  him  by  the  hand,  and  that  is  cold ; 

She  whispers  in  his  ears  a  heavy  tale, 

As  if  they  heard  the  woeful  words  she  told ; 
She  lifts  the  coffer-lids  that  close  his  eyes, 
Where,  lo,  two  lamps  burnt  out  in  darkness  lies ; 

Two  glasses,  where  herself  herself  beheld 

A  thousand  times,  and  now  no  more  reflect  ;  n 

Their  virtue  lost,  wherein  they  late  excell'd, 

And  every  beauty  robb'd  of  his  effect : 

'  Wonder  of  time,'  quoth  she, i 'this  is  my  spite, 
That,  thou  being  dead,  the  day  should  yet  be  light. 

*  Since  thou  art  dead,  lo,  here  I  prophesy  : 
Sorrow  on  love  hereafter  shall  attend  ; 


,  VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  79 

It  shall  be  waited  on  with  jealousy, 

Find  sweet  beginning,  but  unsavoury  end  ; 

Ne'er  settled  equally,  but  high  or  low, 

That  all  love's  pleasure  shall  not  match  his  woe.       1140 

6  It  shall  be  fickle,  false,  and  full  of  fraud, 

Bud  and  be  blasted  in  a  breathing-while  ; 

The  bottom  poison,  and  the  top  o'erstraw'd 

With  sweets  that  shall  the  truest  sight  beguile  : 
The  strongest  body  shall  it  make  most  weak, 
Strike  the  wise  dumb,  and  teach  the  fool  to  speak. 

'  It  shall  be  sparing  and  too  full  of  riot, 
Teaching  decrepit  age  to  tread  the  measures ; 
The  staring  ruffian  shall  it  keep  in  quiet, 
Pluck  down  the  rich,  enrich  the  poor  with  treasures ; 
It  shall  be  raging-mad  and  silly-mild,  nst 

Make  the  young  old,  the  old  become  a  child. 

k  It  shall  suspect  where  is  no  cause  of  fear ; 

It  shall  not  fear  where  it  should  most  mistrust ; 

It  shall  be  merciful  and  too  severe, 

And  most  deceiving  when  it  seems  most  just; 
Perverse  it- shall  be  where  it  shows  most  toward, 
Put  fear  to  valour,  courage  to  the  coward. 

1  It  shall  be  cause  of  war  and  dire  events, 

And  set  dissension  'twixt  the  son  and  sire ;  n6o 

Subject  and  servile  to  all  discontents, 

As  dry  combustious  matter  is  to  fire : 

Sith  in  his  prime  Death  cloth  my  love  destroy, 
They  that  love  best  their  loves  shall  not  enjoy/ 

By  this,  the  boy  that  by  her  side  lay  kill'd 
Was  melted  like  a  vapour  from  her  sight, 
And  in  his  blood  that  on  the  ground  lay  spill'd, 
A  purple  flower  sprung  up,  chequer'd  with  white, 
6 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Resembling  well  his  pale  cheeks  and  the  blood      1169 
Which  in  round  drops  upon  their  whiteness  stood. 

She  bows  her  head,  the  new-sprung  flower  to.  smell, 
Comparing  it  to  her  Adonis'  breath, 
And  says,  within  her  bosom  it  shall  dwell, 
Since  he  himself  is  reft  from  her  by  death  ; 
She  crops  the  stalk,  and  in  the  breach  appears 
Green-dropping  sap,  which  she  compares  to  tears. 

1  Poor  flower,'  quoth  she, '  this  was  thy  father's  guise — 

Sweet  issue  of  a  more  sweet-smelling  sire — 

For  every  little  grief  to  wet  his  eyes: 

To  grow  unto  himself  was  his  desire,  n8o 

And  so  't  is  thine  ;  but  know,  it  is  as  good 

To  wither  in  my  breast  as  in  his  blood. 

'  Here  was  thy  father's  bed,  here  in  my  breast ; 

Thou  art  the  next  of  blood,  and  't  is  thy  right : 

Lo,  in  this  hollow  cradle  take  thy  rest, 

My  throbbing  heart  shall  rock  thee  day  and  night ; 
There  shall  not  be  one  minute  in  an  hour 
Wherein  I  will  not  kiss  my  sweet  love's  flower.' 

Thus  weary  of  the  world,  away  she  hies, 

And  yokes  her  silver  doves,  by  whose  swift  aid  ir9o 

Their  mistress  mounted  through  the  empty  skies 

In  her  light  chariot  quickly  is  convey'd  ; 

Holding  their  course  to  Paphos,  where  their  queen 
Means  to  immure  herself  and  not  be  seen. 


COAT   OF   ARMS   OF   THE   EARL   OF   SOUTHAMPTON. 

TO  THE 

RIGHT  HONOURABLE  HENRY  WRIOTHESLY, 

EARL   OF   SOUTHAMPTON   AND   BARON    OF  TICHFIELD. 

The  love  I  dedicate  to  your  lordship  is  without  end ;  whereof  this 
pamphlet,  without  beginning,  is  but  a  superfluous  moiety.  The  warrant 
I  have  of  your  honourable  disposition,  not  the  worth  of  my  untutored 
lines,  makes  it  assured  of  acceptance.  What  I  have  done  is  yours  ; 
what  I  have  to  do  is  yours ;  being  part  in  all  I  have,  devoted  yours. 
Were  my  worth  greater,  my  duty  would  show  greater  ;  meantime,  as  it 
is,  it  is  bound  to  your  lordship,  to  whom  I  wish  long  life,  still  lengthened 
with  all  happiness.  Your  lordship's  in  all  duty, 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


THE    RAPE    OF    LUCRECE. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

Lucius  TARQUINIUS,  for  his  excessive  pride  surnamed  Superbus,  after 
he  had  caused  his  own  father-in-law  Servius  Tullius  to  be  cruelly  mur- 
thered,  and,  contrary  to  the  Roman  laws  and  customs,  not  requiring  or 
staying  for  the  people's  suffrages,  had  possessed  himself  of  the  kingdom, 
went,  accompanied  with  his  sons  and  other  noblemen  of  Rome,  to  besiege 
Ardea.  During  which  siege  the  principal  men  of  the  army  meeting  one 
evening  at  the  tent  of  Sextus  Tarquinius,  the  kind's  son,  in  their  dis- 
courses after  supper  every  one  commended  the  virtues  of  his  own  wife  ; 
among  whom  Collatinus  extolled  the  incomparable  chastity  of  his  wife 
Lucretia.  In  that  pleasant  humour  they  all  posted  to  Rome  ;  and  intend- 
ing, by  their  secret  and  sudden  arrival,  to  make  trial  of  that  which  every 
one  had  before  avouched,  only  Collatinus  finds  his  wife,  though  it  were 


84  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

late  in  the  night,  spinning  amongst  her  maids  :  the  other  ladies  were  all 
found  dancing  and  revelling,  or  in  several  disports.  Whereupon  the  no- 
blemen yielded  Collatinus  the  victory,  and  his  wife  the  fame.  At  that 
time  Sextus  Tarquinius,  being  inflamed  with  Lucrece'  beauty,  yet  smoth- 
ering his  passions  for  the  present,  departed  with  the  rest  back  to  the 
camp ;  from  whence  he  shortly  after  privily  withdrew  himself,  and  was, 
according  to  his  estate,  royally  entertained  and  lodged  by  Lucrece  at 
Collatium.  The  same  night  he  treacherously  stealeth  into  her  chamber, 
violently  ravished  her,  and  early  in  the  morning  speedeth  away.  Lucrece, 
in  this  lamentable  plight,  hastily  dispatcheth  messengers,  one  to  Rome  for 
her  father,  another  to  the  tamp  for  Collatine.  They  came,  the  one  ac- 
companied with  Junius  Brutus,  the  other  with  Publius  Valerius,  and 
finding  Lucrece  attired  in  mourning  habit,  demanded  the  cause  of  her 
sorrow.  She,  first  taking  an  oath  of  them  for  her  revenge,  revealed  the 
actor  and  whole  manner  of  his  dealing,  and  withal  suddenly  stabbed 
herself.  Which  done,  with  one  consent  they  all  vowed  to  root  out  the 
whole  hated  family  of  the  Tarquins  ;  and  bearing  the  dead  body' to  Rome, 
Brutus  acquainted  the  people  with  the  doer  and  manner  of  the  vile  deed, 
with  a  bitter  invective  against  the  tyranny  of  the  king :  wherewith  the 
people  were  so  moved,  that  with  one  consent  and  a  general  acclamation 
the  Tarquins  were  all  exiled,  and  the  state  government  changed  from 
kings  to  consuls. 


FROM  the  besieged  Ardea  all  in  post, 
Borne  by  the  trustless  wings  of  false  desire, 
Lust-breathed  Tarquin  leaves  the  Roman  host, 
And  to  Collatium  bears  the  lightless  fire 
Which,  in  pale  embers  hid,  lurks  to  aspire 
And  girdle  with  embracing  flames  the  waist 
Of  Collatine's  fair  love,  Lucrece  the  chaste. 

Haply  that  name  of  '  chaste  '  unhappily  set 
This  bateless  edge  on  his  keen  appetite, 
When  Collatine  unwisely  did  not  let 
To  praise  the  clear  unmatched  red  and  white 
Which  triumph'd  in  that  sky  of  his  delight, 

Where  mortal  stars,  as  bright  as  heaven's  beauties, 
With  pure  aspects  did  him  peculiar  duties. 


THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE.  gc 

For  he  the  night  before,  in  Tarquin's  tent, 

Unlock'd  the  treasure  of  his  happy  state; 

What  priceless  wealth  the  heavens  had  him  lent 

In  the  possession  of  his  beauteous  mate ; 

Reckoning  his  fortune  at  such  high-proud  rate, 

That  kings  might  be  espoused  to  more  fame,  *> 

But  king  nor  peer  to  such  a  peerless  dame. 

O  happiness  enjoy'd  but  of  a  few! 

And,  if  possess'd,  as  soon  decay'd  and  done 

As  is  the  morning's  silver-melting  dew 

Against  the  golden  splendour  of  the  sun  ! 

An  expir'd  date,  cancelPd  ere  well  begun  : 
Honour  and  beauty,  in  the  owner's  arms, 
Are  weakly  fortress'd  from  a  world  of  harms. 

Beauty  itself  doth  of  itself  persuade 

The  eyes  of  men  without  an  orator  ;  3o 

What  needeth  then  apologies  be  made, 

To  set  forth  that  which  is  so  singular? 

Or  why  is  Collatine  the  publisher 

Of  that  rich  jewel  he  should  keep  unknown 
From  thievish  ears,  because  it  is  his  own  ? 

Perchance  his  boast  of  Lucrece'  sovereignty 

Suggested  this  proud  issue  of  a  king, 

For  by  our  ears  our  hearts  oft  tainted  be ; 

Perchance  that  envy  of  so  rich  a  thing, 

Braving  compare,  disdainfully  did  sting  40 

His  high-pitch'd  thoughts,  that  meaner  men  should 
vaunt 

That  golden  hap  which  their  superiors  want. 

But  some  untimely  thought  did  instigate 
His  all-too-timeless  speed,  if  none  of  those  ; 
His  honour,  his  affairs,  his  friends,  his  state, 


86  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Neglected  all,  with  swift  intent  he  goes 
To  quench  the  coal  which  in  his  liver  glows. 
O  rash  false  heat,  wrapp'd  in  repentant  cold, 
Thy  hasty  spring  still  blasts,  and  ne'er  grows  old  ! 

When  at  Collatium  this  false  lord  arriv'd,  5o 

Well  was  he  welcom'd  by  the  Roman  dame, 
Within  whose  face  beauty  and  virtue  striv'd 
Which  of  them  both  should  underprop  her  fame  : 
When  virtue  bragg'd,  beauty  would  blush  for  shame  ; 
When  beauty  boasted  blushes,  in  despite 
Virtue  would  stain  that  o'er  with  silver  white. 

But  beauty,  in  that  white  intituled, 
From  Venus'  doves  doth  challenge  that  fair  field : 
Then  virtue  claims  from  beauty  beauty's  red, 
Which  virtue  gave  the  golden  age  to  gild  60 

Their  silver  cheeks,  and  .call'd  it  then  their  shield  ; 
Teaching  them  thus  to  use  it  in  the  fight, — 
When  shame  assail'd,  the  red  should  fence  the  white. 

This  heraldry  in  Lucrece'  face  was  seen, 
Argued  by  beauty's  red  and  virtue's  white  : 
Of  either's  colour  was  the  other  queen, 
Proving  from  world's  minority  their  right ; 
Yet  their  ambition  makes  them  still  to  fight, 
The  sovereignty  of  either  being  so  great, 
That  oft  they  interchange  each  other's  seat.  7° 

This  silent  war  of  lilies  and  of  roses, 
Which  Tarquin  view'd  in  her  fair  face's  field, 
In  their  pure  ranks  his  traitor  eye  encloses ; 
Where,  lest  between  them  both  it  should  be  kill'd, 
The  coward  captive  vanquished  doth  yield 

To  those  two  armies  that  would  let  him  go, 

Rather  than  triumph  in  so  false  a  foe. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  g. 

Now  thinks  he  that  her  husband's  shallow  tongue  — 
The  niggard  prodigal  that  prais'd  her  so  — 
In  that  high  task  hath  done  her  beauty  wrong,  go 

Which  far  exceeds  his  barren  skill  to  show ; 
Therefore  that  praise  which  Collatine  doth  owe 

Enchanted  Tarquin  answers  with  surmise, 

In  silent  wonder  of  still-gazing  eyes. 

This  earthly  saint,  adored  by  this  devil, 

Little  suspecteth  the  false  worshipper, 

For  unstain'd  thoughts  do  seldom  dream  on  evil ; 

Birds  never  lim'd  no  secret  bushes  fear: 

So  guiltless  she  securely  gives  good  cheer 

And  reverend  welcome  to  her  princely  guest,  90 

Whose  inward  ill  no  outward  harm  express'd  : 

For  that  he  colour'd  with  his  high  estate, 

Hiding  base  sin  in  plaits  of  majesty, 

That  nothing  in  him  seem'd  inordinate, 

Save  sometime  too  much  wonder  of  his  eye, 

Which,  having  all,  all  could  not  satisfy ; 
But,  poorly  rich,  so  wanteth  in  his  store, 
That,  cloy'd  with  much,  he  pineth  still  for  more. 

But  she,  that  never  cop'd  with  stranger  eyes, 
Could  pick  no  meaning  from  their  parling  looks,         100 
Nor  read  the  subtle-shining  secrecies 
Writ  in  the  glassy  margents  of  such  books : 
She  touch'd  no  unknown  baits,  nor  fear'd  no  hooks; 
Nor  could  she  moralize  his  wanton  sight, 
More  than  his  eyes  were  open'd  to  the  light. 

He  stories  to  her  ears  her  husband's  fame, 

Won  in  the  fields  of  fruitful  Italy, 

And  decks  with  praises  Collatine's  high  name, 


gg  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Made  glorious  by  his  manly  chivalry 

With  bruised  arms  and  wreaths  of  victory ;  130 

Her  joy  with  heav'd-up  hand  she  doth  express, 
And,  wordless,  so  greets  heaven  for  his  success. 

Far  from  the  purpose  of  his  coming  hither, 
He  makes  excuses  for  his  being  there  : 
No  cloudy  show  of  stormy  blustering  weather 
Doth  yet  in  his  fair  welkin  once  appear ; 
Till  sable  Night,  mother  of  dread  and  fear, 
Upon  the  world  dim  darkness  doth  display, 
And  in  her  vaulty  prison  stows  the  day. 

For  then  is  Tarquin  brought  unto  his  bed,  120 

Intending  weariness  with  heavy  spright ; 
For,  after  supper,  long  he  questioned 
With  modest  Lucrece,  and  wore  out  the  night: 
Now  leaden  slumber  with  life's  strength  doth  fight, 
And  every  one  to  rest  themselves  betake, 
Save  thieves,  and  cares,  and  troubled  minds, that  wake. 

As  one  of  which  doth  Tarquin  lie  revolving 

The  sundry  dangers  of  his  will's  obtaining, 

Yet  ever  to  obtain  his  will  resolving, 

Though  weak-built  hopes  persuade  him  to  abstaining; 

Despair  to  gain  doth  traffic  oft  for  gaining,  i3r 

And  when  great  treasure  is  the  meed  propos'd, 
Though  death  be  adjunct,  there  's  no  death  suppos'd. 

Those  that  much  covet  are  with  gain  so  fond, 
For  what  they  have  not,  that  which  they  possess 
They  scatter  and  unloose  it  from  their  bond, 
And  so,  by  hoping  more,  they  have  but  less ; 
Or,  gaining  more,  the  profit  of  excess 
Is  but  to  surfeit,  and  such  griefs  sustain, 
That  they  prove  bankrupt  in  this  poor-rich  gain.      MO 


THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  89 

The  aim  of  all  is  but  to  nurse  the  life 
With  honour,  wealth,  and  ease,  in  waning  age  ; 
And  in  this  aim  there  is  such  thwarting  strife, 
That  one  for  all  or  all  for  one  we  gage, 
As  life  for  honour  in  fell  battle's  rage, 

Honour  for  wealth ;  and  oft  that  wealth  doth  cost 

The  death  of  all,  and  all  together  lost. 

So  that  in  venturing  ill  we  leave  to  be 

The  things  we  are  for  that  which  we  expect ; 

And  this  ambitious  foul  infirmity,  150 

In  having  much,  torments  us  with  defect 

Of  that  we  have :  so  then  we  do  neglect 

The  thing  we  have  ;  and,  all  for  want  of  wit, 
Make  something  nothing  by  augmenting  it. 

Such  hazard  now  must  doting  Tarquin  make, 

Pawning  his  honour  to  obtain  his  lust, 

And  for  himself  himself  he  must  forsake  ; 

Then  where  is  truth,  if  there  be  no  self-trust  ? 

When  shall  he  think  to  find  a  stranger  just, 

When  he  himself  himself  confounds,  betrays  'fc> 

To  Slanderous  tongues  and  wretched  hateful  days  ? 

Now  stole  upon  the  time  the  dead  of  night, 
When  heavy  sleep  had  clos'd  up  mortal  eyes : 
No  comfortable  star  did  lend  his  light, 
No  noise  but  owls'  and  wolves'  death-boding  cries ; 
Now  serves  the  season  that  they  may  surprise 

The  silly  lambs  :  pure  thoughts  are  dead  and  still, 
While  lust  and  murther  wakes  to  stain  and  kill. 

And  now  this  lustful  lord  leap'd  from  his  bed, 
Throwing  his  mantle  rudely  o'er  his  arm; 
Is  madly  toss'd  between  desire  and  dread : 
Th'  one  sweetly  flatters,  th'  other  feareth  harm  ; 
But  honest  fear,  bewitch'd  with  lust's  foul  charm, 


9o  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Doth  too  too  oft  betake  him  to  retire, 
Beaten  away  by  brain-sick  rude  desire. 

His  falchion  on  a  flint  he  softly  smiteth, 
That  from  the  cold  stone  sparks  of  fire  do  fly ; 
Whereat  a  waxen  torch  forthwith  he  lighteth, 
Which  must  be  lode-star  to  his  lustful  eye, 
And  to  the  flame  thus  speaks  advisedly:  i&i 

'  As  from  this  cold  flint  I  enforced  this  fire. 
So  Lucrece  must  I  force  to  my  desire.' 

Here  pale  with  fear  he  doth  premeditate 
The  dangers  of  his  loathsome  enterprise, 
And  in  his  inward  mind  he  doth  debate 
What  following  sorrow  may  on  this  arise; 
Then  looking  scornfully,  he  doth  despise 
His  naked  armour  of  still-slaughter'd  lust, 
And  justly  thus  controls  his  thoughts  unjust; 

*  Fair  torch,  burn  out  thy  light,  and  lend  it  not  190 
To  darken  her  whose  light  excelleth  thine  ; 

And  die,  unhallow'd  thoughts,  before  you  blot 
With  your  uncleanness  that  which  is  divine ; 
Offer  pure  incense  to  so  pure  a  shrine : 

Let  fair  humanity  abhor  the  deed 

That  spots  and  stains  love's  modest  snow-white  weed. 

'O  shame  to  knighthood  and  to  shining  arms! 

O  foul  dishonour  to  my  household's  grave  ! 

O  impious  act,  including  all  foul  harms  ! 

A  martial  man  to  be  soft  fancy's  slave  !  200 

True  valour  still  a  true  respect  should  have ; 

Then  my  digression  is  so  vile,  so  base, 

That  it  will  live  engraven  in  my  face. 

*  Yea,  though  I  die,  the  scandal  will  survive, 
And  be  an  eye-sore  in  my  golden  coat ; 
Some  loathsome  clash  the  herald  will  contrive, 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRE 'CE.  gi 

To  cipher  me  how  fondly  I  did  dote ; 

That  my  posterity,  sham'd  with  the  note, 
Shall  curse  my  bones,  and  hold  it  for  no  sin 
To  wish  that  I  their  father  had  not  been.  210 

*  What  win  I,  if  I  gain  the  thing  I  seek  ? 

A  dream,  a  breath,  a  froth  of  fleeting  joy. 

Who  buys  a  minute's  mirth  to  wail  a  week, 

Or  sells  eternity  to  get  a  toy? 

For  one  sweet  grape  who  will  the  vine  destroy  ? 
Or  what  fond  beggar,  but  to  touch  the  crown, 
Would  with  the  sceptre  straight  be  strucken  down  ? 

'  If  Collatinus  dream  of  my  intent, 
Will  he  not  wake,  and  in  a  desperate  rage 
Post  hither,  this  vile  purpose  to  prevent?  220 

This  siege  that  hath  engirt  his  marriage, 
This  blur  to  youth,  this  sorrow  to  the  sage, 
This  dying  virtue,  this  surviving  shame, 
Whose  crime  will  bear  an  ever-during  blame? 

*O,  what  excuse  can  my  invention  make 
When  thou  shalt  charge  me  with  so  black  a  deed? 
Will  not  my  tongue  be  mute,  my  frail  joints  shake, 
Mine  eyes  forego  their  light,  my  false  heart  bleed? 
The  guilt  being  great,  the  fear  doth  still  exceed ; 

And  extreme  fear  can  neither  fight  nor  fly,  230 

But  coward-like  with  trembling  terror  die. 

'  Had  Collatinus  kill'd  my  son  or  sire, 

Or  lain  in  ambush  to  betray  my  life, 

Or  were  he  not  my  dear  friend,  this  desire 

Might  have  excuse  to  work  upon  his  wife, 

As  in  revenge  or  quittal  of  such  strife ; 
But  as  he  is  my  kinsman,  my  dear  friend, 
The  shame  and  fault  finds  no  excuse  nor  end. 


92  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'  Shameful  it  is  ;  ay,  if  the  fact  be  known  : 
Hateful  it  is  ;  there  is  no  hate  in  loving :  240 

I  '11  beg  her  love ;  but  she  is  not  her  own  : 
The  worst  is  but  denial  and  reproving ; 
My  will  is  strong,  past  reason's  weak  removing. 
Who  fears  a  sentence  or  an  old  man's  saw 
Shall  by  a  painted  cloth  be  kept  in  awe.' 

Thus,  graceless,  holds  he  disputation 
'Tween  frozen  conscience  and  hot-burning  will, 
And  with  good  thoughts  makes  dispensation, 
Urging  the  worser  sense  for  vantage  still ; 
Which  in  a  moment  doth  confound  and  kill  250 

All  pure  effects,  and  doth  so  far  proceed, 
That  what  is  vile  shows  like  a  virtuous  deed. 

Quoth  he,  '  She  took  me  kindly  by  the  hand, 

And  gaz'd  for  tidings  in  my  eager  eyes, 

Fearing  some  hard  news  from  the  warlike  band, 

Where  her  beloved  Collatinus  lies. 

O,  how  her  fear  did  make  her  colour  rise  ! 
First  red  as  roses  that  on  lawn  we  lay, 
Then  white  as  lawn,  the  roses  took  away. 

'And  how  her  hand,  in  my  hand  being  lock'd,  260 

Forc'd  it  to  tremble  with  her  loyal  fear ! 

Which  struck  her  sad,  and  then  it  faster  rock'd, 

Until  her  husband's  welfare  she  did  hear ; 

Whereat  she  smiled  with  so  sweet  a  cheer, 
That  had  Narcissus  seen  her  as  she  stood, 
Self-love  had  never  drown'cl  him  in  the  flood. 

'Why  hunt  I  then  for  colour  or  excuses? 

All  orators  are  dumb  when  beauty  pleadeth  ; 

Poor  wretches  have  remorse  in  poor  abuses  ;  269 

Love  thrives  not  in  the  heart  that  shadows  dreadeth ; 

Affection  is  my  captain,  and  he  leadeth; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRE CE.  93 

And  when  his  gaudy  banner  is  displayed, 
The  coward  fights  and  will  not  be  dismay'd. 

1  Then,  childish  fear  avaunt !  debating  die  ! 
Respect  and  reason  wait  on  wrinkled  age ! 
My  heart  shall  never  countermand  mine  eye  : 
Sad  pause  and  deep  regard  beseems  the  sage ; 
My  part  is  youth,  and  beats  these  from  the  stage : 

Desire  my  pilot  is,  beauty  my  prize  ; 

Then  who  fears  sinking  where  such  treasure  lies  ?'  280 

As  corn  o'ergrown  by  weeds,  so  heedful  fear 

Is  almost  chok'd  by  unresisted  lust. 

Away  he  steals  with  open  listening  ear, 

Full  of  foul  hope  and  full  of  fond  mistrust ; 

Both  which,  as  servitors  to  the  unjust, 

So  cross  him  with  their  opposite  persuasion, 
That  now  he  vows  a  league,  and  now  invasion. 

Within  his  thought  her  heavenly  image  sits, 

And  in  the  self-same  seat  sits  Collatine  : 

That  eye  which  looks  on  her  confounds  his  wits  ;        290 

That  eye  which  him  beholds,  as  more  divine, 

Unto  a  view  so  false  will  not  incline, 

But  with  a  pure  appeal  seeks  to  the  heart, 
Which  once  corrupted  takes  the  worser  part  ; 

And  therein  heartens  up  his  servile  powers, 
Who,  flatter'd  by  their  leader's  jocund  show, 
Stuff  up  his  lust,  as  minutes  fill  up  hours  ; 
And  as  their  captain,  so  their  pride  doth  grow, 
Paying  more  slavish  tribute  than  they  owe. 

By  reprobate  desire  thus  madly  led,  3«> 

The  Roman  lord  marcheth  to  Lucrece'  bed. 

The  locks  between  her  chamber  and  his  will, 
Each  one  by  him  enforc'cl,  retires  his  ward  ; 
But,  as  they  open,  they  all  rate  his  ill, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Which  drives  the  creeping  thief  to  some  regard  : 
The  threshold  grates  the  door  to  have  him  heard  ; 

Night-wandering  weasels  shriek  to  see  him  there  ; 

They  fright  him,  yet  he  still  pursues  his  fear. 

As  each  unwilling  portal  yields  him  way, 

Through  little  vents  and  crannies  of  the  place  310 

The  wind  wars  with  his  torch  to  make  him  stay, 

And  blows  the  smoke  of  it  into  his  face, 

Extinguishing  his  conduct  in  this  case  ; 

But  his  hot  heart,  which  fond  desire  doth  scorch, 
Puffs  forth  another  wind  that  fires  the  torch : 

And  being  lighted,  by  the  light  he  spies 

Lucretia's  glove,  wherein  her  needle  sticks  : 

He  takes  it  from  the  rushes  where  it  lies, 

And  griping  it,  the  needle  his  finger  pricks  ; 

As  who  should  say  'This  glove  to  wanton  tricks          320 

Is  not  inur'd  ;  return  again  in  haste  ; 

Thou  see'st  our  mistress'  ornaments  are  chaste.' 

But  all  these  poor  forbiddings  could  not  stay  him  ; 

He  in  the  worst  sense  construes  their  denial : 

The  doors,  the  wind,  the  glove,  that  did  delay  him, 

He  takes  for  accidental  things  of  trial  ; 

Or  as  those  bars  which  stop  the  hourly  dial, 
Who  with  a  lingering  stay  his  course  doth  let, 
Till  every  minute  pays  the  hour  his  debt. 

1  So,  so/  quoth  he, '  these  lets  attend  the  time,  330 

Like  little  frosts  that  sometime  threat  the  spring, 
To  add  a  more  rejoicing  to  the  prime, 
And  give  the  sneaped  birds  more  cause  to  sing. 
Pain  pays  the  income  of  each  precious  thing ; 

Huge  rocks,  high  winds,  strong  pirates,  shelves  and 
sands, 

The  merchant  fears,  ere  rich  at  home  he  lands.' 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 

V*) 

Now  is  he  come  unto  the  chamber-door 
That  shuts  him  from  the  heaven  of  his  thought, 
Which  with  a  yielding  latch,  and  with  no  more, 
Hath  barr'd  him  from  the  blessed  thing  he  sought.      340 
So  from  himself  impiety  hath  wrought, 
That  for  his  prey  to  pray  he  doth  begin, 
As  if  the  heavens  should  countenance  his  sin. 

But  in  the  midst  of  his  unfruitful  prayer, 
Having  solicited  the  eternal  power 
That  his  foul  thoughts  might  compass  his  fair  fair, 
And  they  would  stand  auspicious  to  the  hour, 
Even  there  he  starts :  quoth  he,  '  I  must  deflower ; 
The  powers  to  whom  I  pray  abhor  this  fact, 
How  can  they  then  assist  me  in  the  act?  '  3So 

'Then  Love  and  Fortune  be  my  gods,  my  guide ! 

My  will  is  back'd  with  resolution  : 

Thoughts  are  but  dreams  till  their  effects  be  tried  ; 

The  blackest  sin  is  clear'd  with  absolution  ; 

Against  love's  fire  fear's  frost  hath  dissolution. 
The  eye  of  heaven  is  out,  and  misty  night 
Covers  the  shame  that  follows  sweet  delight.' 

This  said,  his  guilty  hand  pluck'd  up  the  latch, 

And  with  his  knee  the  door  he  opens  wide. 

The  dove  sleeps  fast  that  this  night-owl  will  catch  ;    360 

Thus  treason  works  ere  traitors  be  espied. 

Who  sees  the  lurking  serpent  steps  aside; 

But  she,  sound  sleeping,  fearing  no  such  thing, 

Lies  at  the  mercy  of  his  mortal  sting. 

Into  the  chamber  wickedly  he  stalks, 
And  gazeth  on  her  yet  unstained  bed. 
The  curtains  being  close,  about  he  walks, 
Rolling  his  greedy  eyeballs  in  his  head  ;    . 
By  their  high  treason  is  his  heart  misled, 
7 


96 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Which  gives  the  watchword  to  his  hand  full  soon 
To  draw  the  cloud  that  hides  the  silver  moon.         371 

Look,  as  the  fair  and  fiery-pointed  sun, 
Rushing  from  forth  a  cloud,  bereaves  our  sight, 
Even  so,  the  curtain  drawn,  his  eyes  begun 
To  wink,  being  blinded  with  a  greater  light ; 
Whether  it  is  that  she  reflects  so  bright, 

That  dazzleth  them,  or  else  some  shame  suppos'd, 
But  blind  they  are,  and  keep  themselves  enclos'cl. 

O,  had  they  in  that  darksome  prison  died ! 

Then  had  they  seen  the  period  of  their  ill ;  38o 

Then  Collatine  again,  by  Lucrece'  side, 

In  his  clear  bed  might  have  reposed  still ; 

But  they  must  ope,  this  blessed  league  to  kill, 
And  holy-thoughted  Lucrece  to  their  sight 
Must  sell  her  joy,  her  life,  her  world's  delight. 

Her  lily  hand  her  rosy  cheek  lies  under, 

Cozening  the  pillow  of  a  lawful  kiss, 

Who,  therefore  angry,  seems  to  part  in  sunder, 

Swelling  on  either  side  to  want  his  bliss; 

Between  whose  hills  her  head  entombed  is,  390 

Where,  like  a  virtuous  monument,  she  lies. 

To  be  admir'd  of  lewd  unhallow'd  eyes. 

Without  the  bed  her  other  fair  hand  was, 
On  the  green  coverlet,  whose  perfect  white 
Show'd  like  an  April  daisy  on  the  grass, 
With  pearly  sweat,  resembling  dew  of  night. 
Her  eyes,  like  marigolds,  had  sheath'd  their  light, 

And  canopied  in  darkness  sweetly  lay, 

Till  they  might  open  to  adorn  the  day. 

Her  hair,  like  golden  threads,  play'd  with  her  breath  ; 
O  modest  wantons!  wanton  modesty!  4oi 

Showing  life's  triumph  in  the  map  of  death, 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 

And  death's  dim  look  in  life's  mortality; 

Each  in  her  sleep  themselves  so  beautify, 
As  if  between  them  twain  there  were  no  strife, 
But  that  life  liv'd  in  death,  and  death  in  life. 

Her  breasts,  like  ivory  globes  circled  with  blue, 
A  pair  of  maiden  worlds  unconquered, 
Save  of  their  lord  no  bearing  yoke  they  knew, 
And  him  by  oath  they  truly  honoured.  4io 

These  worlds  in  Tarquin  new  ambition  bred, 
Who,  like  a  foul  usurper,  went  about 
From  this  fair  throne  to  heave  the  owner  out. 

What  could  he  see  but  mightily  he  noted  ? 
What  did  he  note  but  strongly  he  desir'd  ? 
What  he  beheld,  on  that  he  firmly  doted, 
And  in  his  will  his  wilful  eye  he  tir'd. 
With  more  than  admiration  he  admir'd 

Her  azure  veins,  her  alabaster  skin, 

Her  coral  lips,  her  snow-white  dimpled  chin.  420 

As  the  grim  lion  fawneth  o'er  his  prey, 
Sharp  hunger  by  the  conquest  satisfied, 
So  o'er  this  sleeping  soul  doth  Tarquin  stay, 
His  rage  of  lust  by  gazing  qualified ;       , 
Slack'd,  not  suppress'd,  for  standing  by  her  side, 
His  eye,  which  late  this  mutiny  restrains, 
Unto  a  greater  uproar  tempts  his  veins: 

And  they,  like  straggling  slaves  for  pillage  fighting, 
Obdurate  vassals  fell  exploits  effecting, 
In  bloody  death  and  ravishment  delighting,  43° 

Nor  children's  tears  nor  mothers'  groans  respecting, 
Swell  in  their  pride,  the  onset  still  expecting; 
Anon  his  beating  heart,  alarum  striking, 
Gives  the  hot  charge  and  bids  them  do  their  liking. 


98  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

His  drumming  heart  cheers  up  his  burning  eye, 
His  eye  commends  the  leading  to  his  hand; 
His  hand,  as  proud  of  such  a  dignity, 
Smoking  with  pride,  march'd  on  to  make  his  stand 
On  her  bare  breast,  the  heart  of  all  her  land, 

Whose  ranks  of  blue  veins,  as  his  hand  did  scale,    440 
Left  their  round  turrets  destitute  and  pale. 

They,  mustering  to  the  quiet  cabinet 
Where  their  dear  governess  and  lady  lies, 
Do  tell  her  she  is  dreadfully  beset, 
And  fright  her  with  confusion  of  their  cries ; 
She,  much  amaz'd,  breaks  ope  her  lock'd-up  eyes, 
Who,  peeping  forth  this  tumult  to  behold, 
Are  by  his  flaming  torch  dimm'd  and  controlFd. 

Imagine  her  as  one  in  dead  of  night 
From  forth  dull  sleep  by  dreadful  fancy  waking,          4So 
That  thinks  she  hath  beheld  some  ghastly  sprite, 
Whose  grim  aspect  sets  every  joint  a-shaking; 
What  terror  't  is  !  but  she,  in  worser  taking, 
From  sleep  disturbed,  needfully  doth  view 
The  sight  which  makes  supposed  terror  true. 

Wrapp'd  and  confounded  in  a  thousand  fears, 

Like  to  a  new-kill'd  bird  she  trembling  lies; 

She  dares  not  look;  yet,  winking,  there  appears 

Quick-shifting  antics,  ugly  in  her  eyes : 

Such  shadows  are  the  weak  brain's  forgeries,  46o 

Who,  angry  that  the  eyes  fly  from  their  lights, 
In  darkness  daunts  them  with  more  dreadful  sights. 

His  hand,  that  yet  remains  upon  her  breast, — 
Rude  ram,  to  batter  such  an  ivory  wall ! — 
May  feel  her  heart — poor  citizen  ! — distress'd, 
Wounding  itself  to  death,  rise  up  and  fall, 
Beating  her  bulk,  that  his  hand  shakes  withal. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ^ 

This  moves  in  him  more  rage  and  lesser  pity, 
To  make  the  breach  and  enter  this  sweet  city. 

First,  like  a  trumpet,  doth  his  tongue  begin  470 

To  sound  a  parley  to  his  heartless  foe, 

Who  o'er  the  white  sheet  peers  her  whiter  chin, 

The  reason  of  this  rash  alarm  to  know, 

Which  he  by  dumb  demeanour  seeks  to  show; 

But  she  with  vehement  prayers  urgeth  still 

Under  what  colour  he  commits  this  ill. 

Thus  he  replies :  '  The  colour  in  thy  face, 

That  even  for  anger  makes  the  lily  pale, 

And  the  red  rose  blush  at  her  own  disgrace, 

Shall  plead  for  me  and  tell  my  loving  tale;  48o 

Under  that  colour  am  I  come  to  scale 

Thy  never-conquer'd  fort :  the  fault  is  thine, 
For  those  thine  eyes  betray  thee  unto  mine. 

4  Thus  I  forestall  thee,  if  thou  mean  to  chide  : 
Thy  beauty  hath  ensnar'd  thee  to  this  night, 
Where  thou  with  patience  must  my  will  abide ; 
My  will  that  marks  thee  for  my  earth's  delight, 
W7hich  I  to  conquer  sought  with  all  my  might, 
But  as  reproof  and  reason  beat  it  dead, 
By  thy  bright  beauty  was  it  newly  bred.  4<* 

;  I  see  what  crosses  my  attempt  will  bring ; 

I  know  what  thorns  the  growing  rose  defends ; 

I  think  the  honey  guarded  with  a  sting ; 

All  this  beforehand  counsel  comprehends  : 

But  will  is  deaf  and  hears  no  heedful  friends ; 
Only  he  hath  an  eye  to  gaze  on  beauty, 
And  dotes  on  what  he  looks,  'gainst  law  or  duty. 

6 1  have  debated,  even  in  my  soul, 

What  wrong,  what  shame,  what  sorrow  I  shall  breed  ; 

But  nothing  can  affection's  course  control,  500 


I00  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Or  stop  the  headlong  fury  of  his  speed. 
I  know  repentant  tears  ensue  the  deed, 

Reproach,  disdain,  and  deadly  enmity; 

Yet  strive  I  to  embrace  mine  infamy.' 

This  said,  he  shakes  aloft  his  Roman  blade, 
Which,  like  a  falcon  towering  in  the  skies, 
Coucheth  the  fowl  below  with  his  wings'  shade, 
Whose  crooked  beak  threats  if  he  mount  he  dies ; 
So  under  his  insulting  falchion  lies 

Harmless  Lucretia,  marking  what  he  tells 
With  trembling  fear,  as  fowl  hear  falcon's  bells. 

'Lucrece,'  quoth  he,  'this  night  I  must  enjoy  thee; 
If  thou  deny,  then  force  must  work  my  way, 
For  in  thy  bed  I  purpose  to  destroy  thee  : 
That  done,  some  worthless  slave  of  thine  I  '11  slay, 
To  kill  thine  honour  with  thy  life's  decay ; 

And  in  thy  dead  arms  do  I  mean  to  place  him, 
Swearing  I  slew  him,  seeing  'thee  embrace  him. 

*  So  thy  surviving  husband  shall  remain 
The  scornful  mark  of  every  open  eye  ; 
Thy  kinsmen  hang  their  heads  at  this  disdain, 
Thy  issue  blurr'd  with  nameless  bastardy : 
And  thou,  the  author  of  their  obloquy, 

Shalt  have  thy  trespass  cited  up  in  rhymes, 
.  And  sung  by  children  in  succeeding  times. 

1  But  if  thou  yield,  I  rest  thy  secret  friend : 
The  fault  unknown  is  as  a  thought  unacted; 
A  little  harm  done  to  a  great  good  end 
For  lawful  policy  remains  enacted. 
The  poisonous  simple  sometimes  is  compacted 

In  a  pure  compound ;  being  so  applied, 

His  venom  in  effect  is  purified. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCR&C&. 


ro. 


'Then,  for  thy  husband  and  thy  children's  sake, 
Tender  my  suit:  bequeath  not  to  their  lot 
The  shame  that  from  them  no  device  can  take, 
The  blemish  that  will  never  be  forgot, 
Worse  than  a  slavish  wipe  or  birth-hour's  blot; 
For  marks  descried  in  men's  nativity 
Are  nature's  faults,  not  their  own  infamy.' 

Here  with  a  cockatrice'  dead-killing  eye  s4c 

He  rouseth  up  himself  and  makes  a  pause ; 

While  she,  the  picture  of  pure  piety, 

Like  a  white  hind  under  the  gripe's  sharp  claws, 

Pleads,  in  a  wilderness  where  are  no  laws, 

To  the  rough  beast  that  knows  no  gentle  right, 

Nor  aught  obeys  but  his  foul  appetite. 

•But  when  a  black-fac'd  cloud  the  world  doth  threat, 
In  his  dim  mist  the  aspiring  mountains  hiding, 
From  earth's  dark  womb  some  gentle  gust  doth  get, 
Which  blows  these  pitchy  vapours  from  their  biding, 
Hindering  their  present  fall  by  this  dividing ;  ss\ 

So  his  unhallow'd  haste  her  words  delays, 
And  moody  Pluto  winks  while  Orpheus  plays. 

Yet,  foul  night-waking  cat,  he  doth  but  dally, 
While  in  his  hold-fast  foot  the  weak  mouse  panteth: 
Her  sad  behaviour  feeds  his  vulture  folly, 
A  swallowing  gulf  that  even  in  plenty  wanteth; 
His  ear  her  prayers  admits,  but  his  heart  granteth 
No  penetrable  entrance  to  her  plaining  : 
Tears  harden  lust,  though  marble  wear  with  raining. 

Her  pity-pleading  eyes  are  sadly  fix'd  56* 

In  the  remorseless  wrinkles  of  his  face ; 
Her  modest  eloquence  with  sighs  is  mix'd, 
Which  to  her  oratory  adds  more  grace. 
She  puts  the  period  often  from  bis  place, 


,102' 


, ,  ;  /  'SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

And  midst  the  sentence  so  her  accent  breaks, 
That  twice  she  doth  begin  ere  once  she  speaks. 

She  conjures  him  by  high  almighty  Jove, 
By  knighthood,  gentry,  and  sweet  friendship's  oath, 
By  her  untimely  tears,  her  husband's  love,  57o 

By  holy  human  law,  and  common  troth, 
By  heaven  and  earth,  and  all  the  power  of  both, 
That  to  his  borrow'd  bed  he  make  retire, 
And  stoop  to  honour,  not  to  foul  desire. 

Quoth  she, '  Reward  not  hospitality 
With  such  black  payment  as  thou  hast  pretended  ; 
Mud  not  the  fountain  that  gave  drink  to  thee  ; 
Mar  not  the  thing  that  cannot  be  amended  ; 
End  thy  ill  aim  before  thy  shoot  be  ended ; 

He  is  no  woodman  that  doth  bend  his  bow  i    580 

To  strike  a  poor  unseasonable  doe. 

1  My  husband  is  thy  friend ;  for  his  sake  spare  me  : 
Thyself  art  mighty  ;  for  thine  own  sake  leave  me : 
Myself  a  weakling ;  do  not  then  ensnare  me  : 
Thou  look'st  not  like  deceit ;  do  not  deceive  me. 
My  sighs,  like  whirlwinds,  labour  hence  to  heave  thee : 
If  ever  man  were  mov'd  with  woman's  moans, 
Be  moved  with  my  tears,  my  sighs,  my  groans ; 

'All  which  together,  like  a  troubled  ocean, 

Beat  at  thy  rocky  and  wrack-threatening  heart,  590 

To  soften  it  with  their  continual  motion, 

For  stones  dissolved  to  water  do  convert. 

O,  if  no  harder  than  a  stone  thou  art, 

Melt  at  my  tears,  and  be  compassionate ! 

Soft  pity  enters  at  an  iron  gate. 

'  In  Tarquin's  likeness  I  did  entertain  thee  ; 
Hast  thou  put  on  his  shape  to  do  him  shame? 
To  all  the  host  of  heaven  I  complain  me, 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  IO3 

Thou  wrong'st  his  honour,  wound'st  his  princely  name. 
Thou  art  not  what  thou  seem'st ;  and  if  the  same,      600 

Thou  seem'st  not  what  thou  art,  a  god,  a  king ; 

For  kings  like  gods  should  govern  every  thing. 

'  How  will  thy  shame  be  seeded  in  thine  age, 
When  thus  thy  vices  bud  before'  thy  spring ! 
If  in  thy  hope  thou  dar'st  do  such  outrage, 
What  dar'st  thou  not  when  once  thou  art  a  king? 
O,  be  remember'd,  no  outrageous  thing 

From  vassal  actors  can  be  wip'd  away ; 

Then  kings'  misdeeds  cannot  be  hid  in  clay. 

*  This  deed  will  make  thee  only  lov'd  for  fear,  610 
But  happy  monarchs  still  are  fear'd  for  love; 

With  foul  offenders  thou  perforce  must  bear, 
When  they  in  thee  the  like  offences  prove : 
If  but  for  fear  of  this,  thy  will  remove  ; 

For  princes  are  the  glass,  the  school,  the  book, 
WThere  subjects'  eyes  do  learn,  do  read,  do  look. 

i  And  wilt  thou  be  the  school  where  Lust  shall  learn  ? 

Must  he  in  thee  read  lectures  of  such  shame  ? 

Wilt  thou  be  glass  wherein  it  shall  discern 

Authority  for  sin,  warrant  for  blame,  620 

To  privilege  dishonour  in  thy  name  ? 

Thou  back'st  reproach  against  long-living  laud, 
And  mak'st  fair  reputation  but  a  bawd. 

*  Hast  thou  command  ?  by  him  that  gave  it  thee, 
From  a  pure  heart  command  thy  rebel  will ; 
Draw  not  thy  sword  to  guard  iniquity, 

For  it  was  lent  thee  all  that  brood  to  kill. 

Thy  princely  office  how  canst  thou  fulfil, 

When,  pattern'd  by  thy  fault,  foul  sin  may  say, 

He  learn'd  to  sin,  and  thou  didst  teach  the  way?    630 


104  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

1  Think  but  how  vile  a  spectacle  it  were, 
To  view  thy  present  trespass  in  another. 
Men's  faults  do  seldom  to  themselves  appear ; 
Their  own  transgressions  partially  they  smother : 
This  guilt  would  seem  death-worthy  in  thy  brother. 
O,  how  are  they.wrapp'd  in  with  infamies 
That  from  their  own  misdeeds  askance  their  eyes  ! 

1  To  thee,  to  thee,  my  heav'd-up  hands  appeal, 

Not  to  seducing  lust,  thy  rash  relier : 

I  sue  for  exil'd  majesty's  repeal ;  64o 

Let  him  return,- and  flattering  thoughts  retire: 

His  true  respect  will  prison  false  desire, 

And  wipe  the  dim  mist  from  thy  doting  eyne, 
That  thou  shalt  see  thy  state  and  pity  mine.' 

4  Have  done,'  quoth  he;  'my  uncontrolled  tide 

Turns  not,  but  swells  the  higher  by  this  let. 

Small  lights  are  soon  blown  out,  huge  fires  abide, 

And  with  the  wind  in  greater  fury  fret ; 

The  petty  streams  that  pay  a  daily  debt 

To  their  salt  sovereign,  with  their  fresh  falls'  haste 
Add  to  his  flow,  but  alter  not  his  taste.'  65I 

'  Thou  art,'  quoth  she, '  a  sea,  a  sovereign  king  ; 
And  lo,  there  falls  into  thy  boundless  flood 
Black  lust,  dishonour,  shame,  misgoverning, 
Who  seek  to  stain  the  ocean  of  thy  blood. 
If  all  these  petty  ills  shall  change  thy  good, 
Thy  sea  within  a  puddle's  womb  is  hears'd, 
And  not  the  puddle  in  thy  sea  dispers'd. 

'  So  shall  these  slaves  be  king,  and  thou  their  slave  ; 
Thou  nobly  base,  they  basely  dignified  ;  660 

Thou  their  fair  life,  and  they  thy  fouler  grave ; 
Thou  loathed  in  their  shame,  they  in  thy  pride : 
The  lesser  thing  should  not  the  greater  hide ; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  IO5 

The  cedar  stoops  not  to  the  base  shrub's  foot, 
But  low  shrubs  wither  at  the  cedar's  root. 

'  So  let  thy  thoughts,  low  vassals  to  thy  state  '- 
*  No  more,'  quoth  he ;  '  by  heaven,  I  will  not  hear  thee : 
Yield  to  my  love  ;  if  not,  enforced  hate, 
Instead  of  love's  coy  touch,  shall  rudely  tear  thee ; 
That  done,  despitefully  I  mean  to  bear  thee  67o 

Unto  the  base  bed  of  some  rascal  groom, 
To  be  thy  partner  in  this  shameful  doom.' 

This  said,  he  sets  his  foot  upon  the  light, 

For  light  and  lust  are  deadly  enemies; 

Shame  folded  up  in  blind  concealing  night, 

When  most  unseen,  then  most  doth  tyrannize. 

The  wolf  hath  seiz'd  his  prey,  the  poor  lamb  cries ; 
Till  with  her  own  white  fleece  her  voice  controlled 
Entombs  her  outcry  in  her  lips'  sweet  fold  : 

For  with  the  nightly  linen  that  she  wears  6&> 

He  pens  her  piteous  clamours  in  her  head, 

Cooling  his  hot  face  in  the  chastest  tears 

That  ever  modest  eyes  with  sorrow  shed. 

O,  that  prone  lust  should  stain  so  pure  a  bed ! 
The  spots  whereof  could  weeping  purify, 
Her  tears  should  drop  on  them  perpetually. 

But  she  hath  lost  a  dearer  thing  than  life, 
And  he  hath  won  what  he  would  lose  again : 
This  forced  league  doth  force  a  further  strife ; 
This  momentary  joy  breeds  months  of  pain ;  690 

This  hot  desire  converts  to  cold  disdain; 
Pure  Chastity  is  rifled  of  her  store, 
And  Lust,  the  thief,  far  poorer  than  before. 

Look,  as  the  full-fed  hound  or  gorged  hawk, 
Unapt  for  tender  smell  or  speedy  flight, 
Make  slow  pursuit,  or  altogether  balk 


I06  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

The  prey  wherein  by  nature  they  delight, 
So  surfeit-taking  Tarquin  fares  this  night ; 
His  taste  delicious,  in  digestion  souring, 
Devours  his  will,  that  liv'd  by  foul  devouring.  7o 

O,  deeper  sin  than  bottomless  conceit 
Can  comprehend  in  still  imagination  ! 
Drunken  Desire  must  vomit  his  receipt, 
Ere  he  can  see  his  own  abomination. 
While  Lust  is  in  his  pride,  no  exclamation 
,  Can  curb  his  heat  or  rein  his  rash  desire, 
Till  like  a  jade  Self-will  himself  doth  tire. 

And  then  with  lank  and  lean  discolour'd  cheek, 
With  heavy  eye,  knit  brow,  and  strengthless  pace, 
Feeble  Desire,  all  recreant,  poor,  and  meek,  7i 

Like  to  a  bankrupt  beggar  wails  his  case : 
The  flesh  being  proud,  Desire  doth  fight  with  Grace, 

For  there  it  revels;  and  when  that  decays, 

The  guilty  rebel  for  remission  prays. 

So  fares  it  with  this  faultful  lord  of  Rome, 

Who  this  accomplishment  so  hotly  chas'd ; 

For  now  against  himself  he  sounds  this  doom, 

That  through  the  length  of  times  he  stands  disgraced : 

Besides,  his  soul's  fair  temple  is  defac'd ; 

To  whose  weak  ruins  muster  troops  of  cares,  72 

To  ask  the  spotted  princess  how  she  fares. 

She  says,  her  subjects  with  foul  insurrection 
Have  batter'd  down  her  consecrated  wall, 
And  by  their  mortal  fault  brought  in  subjection 
Her  immortality,  and  made  her  thrall 
To  living  death  and  pain  perpetual; 

Which  in  her  prescience  she  controlled  still, 
But  her  foresight  could  not  forestall  their  will. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  Io? 

Even  in  this  thought  through  the  dark  night  he  slealeth, 
A  captive  victor  that  hath  lost  in  gain ;  730 

Bearing  away  the  wound  that  nothing  healeth, 
The  scar  that  will,  despite  of  cure,  remain  ; 
Leaving  his  spoil  perplex'd  in  greater  pain. 

She  bears  the  load  of  lust  he  left  behind, 

And  he  the  burthen  of  a  guilty  mind. 

He  like  a  thievish  dog  creeps  sadly  thence; 

She  like  a  wearied  lamb  lies  panting  there ; 

He  scowls  and  hates  himself  for  his  offence; 

She,  desperate,  with  her  nails  her  flesh  doth  tear; 

He  faintly  flies,  sweating  with  guilty  fear;  740 

She  stays,  exclaiming  on  the  direful  night; 

He  runs,  and  chides  his  vanish'd,  loath'd  delight. 

He  thence  departs  a  heavy  convertite  ; 

She  there  remains  a  hopeless  castaway ; 

He  in  his  speed  looks  for  the  morning  light; 

She  prays  she  never  may  behold  the  day, 

'  For  day/  quoth  she, '  night's  scapes  doth  open  lay, 
And  my  true  eyes  have  never  practised  how 
To  cloak  offences  with  a  cunning  brow. 

1  They  think  not  but  that  every  eye  can  see  75° 

The  same  disgrace  which  they  themselves  behold  ; 

And  therefore  would  they  still  in  darkness  be, 

To  have  their  unseen  sin  remain  untold; 

For  they  their  guilt  with  weeping  will  unfold, 
And  grave,  like  water  that  doth  eat  in  steel, 
Upon  my  cheeks  what  helpless  shame  I  feel. 

Here  she  exclaims  against  repose  and  rest, 

And  bids  her  eyes  hereafter  still  be  blind ; 

She  wakes  her  heart  by  beating  on  her  breast, 

And  bids  it  leap  from  thence,  where  it  may  find          760 

Some  purer  chest  to  close  so  pure  a  mind. 


I0g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Frantic  with  grief  thus  breathes  she  forth  her  spite 
Against  the  unseen  secrecy  of  night : 

'O  comfort-killing  Night,  image  of  hell ! 

Dim  register  and  notary  of  shame  ! 

Black  stage  for  tragedies  and  murthers  fell ! 

Vast  sin-concealing  chaos  !  nurse  of  blame  ! 

Blind  muffled  bawd  !  dark  harbour  for  defame ! 
Grim  cave  of  death  !  whispering  conspirator 
With  close-tongued  treason  and  the  ravisher!  770 

'  O  hateful,  vaporous,  and  foggy  Night ! 
Since  thou  art  guilty  of  my  cureless  crime, 
Muster  thy  mists  to  meet  the  eastern  light, 
Make  war  against  proportion'd  course  of  time  ; 
Or  if  thou  wilt  permit  the  sun  to  climb 
His  wonted  height,  yet  ere  he  go  to  bed 
Knit  poisonous  clouds  about  his  golden  head. 

'With  rotten  damps  ravish  the  morning  air; 

Let  their  exhal'd  unwholesome  breaths  make  sick 

The  life  of  purity,  the  supreme  fair,  78o 

Ere  he  arrive  his  weary  rtoon-tide  prick  ; 

And  let  thy  misty  vapours  march  so  thick, 
That  in  their  smoky  ranks  his  smother'd  light 
May  set  at  noon  and  make  perpetual  night. 

1  Were  Tarquin  Night,  as  he  is  but  Night's  child, 
The  silver-shining  queen  he  would  distain; 
Her  twinkling  handmaids  too,  by  him  defil'd, 
Through  Night's  black  bosom  should  not  peep  again  : 
So  should  I  have  co-partners  in  my  pain  ; 

And  fellowship  in  woe  doth  woe  assuage,  79o 

As  palmers'  chat  makes  short  their  pilgrimage: 

'  Where  now  I  have  no  one  to  blush  with  me, 

To  cross  their  arms  and  hang  their  heads  with  mine, 

To  mask  their  brows  and  hide  their  infamy ; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCK  EC E.  IQ<) 

But  I  alone  alone  must  sit  and  pine, 
Seasoning  the  earth  with  showers  of  silver  brine, 
Mingling  my  talk  with  tears,  my  grief  with  groans, 
Poor  wasting  monuments  of  lasting  moans. 

'O  Night,  thou  furnace  of  foul-reeking  smoke, 

Let  not  the  jealous  Day  behold  that  face  8oc 

Which  underneath  thy  black  all-hiding  cloak 

Immodestly  lies  martyr'd  with  disgrace! 

Keep  still  possession  of  thy  gloomy  place, 

That  all  the  faults  which  in  thy  reign  are  made 
May  likewise  be  sepulchred  in  thy  shade  ! 

'Make  me  not  object  to  the  tell-tale  Day! 

The  light  will  show,  character'd  in  my  brow, 

The  story  of  sweet  chastity's  decay, 

The  impious  breach  of  holy  wedlock  vow; 

Yea,  the  illiterate,  that  know  not  how  810 

To  cipher  what  is  writ  in  learned  books, 
Will  quote  my  loathsome  trespass  in  my  looks. 

4  The  nurse,  to  still  her  child,  will  tell  my  story, 

And  fright  her  crying  babe  with  Tarquin's  name ; 

The  orator,  to  deck  his  oratory, 

Will  couple  my  reproach  to  Tarquin's  shame ; 

Feast-finding  minstrels,  tuning  my  defame, 
Will  tie  the  hearers  to  attend  each  line, 
How  Tarquin  wronged  me,  I  Collatine. 

1  Let  my  good  name,  that  senseless  reputation,  820 

For  Collatings  dear  love  be  kept  unspotted; 
If  that  be  made  a  theme  for  disputation, 
The  branches  of  another  root  are  rotted, 
And  undeserved  reproach  to  him  allotted 

That  is  as  clear  from  this  attaint  of  mine 

As  I,  ere  this,  was  pure  to  Collatine. 


Iro  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'O  unseen  shame!  invisible  disgrace! 

0  unfelt  sore  !  crest-wounding,  private  scar  ! 
Reproach  is  stamp'd  in  Collatinus'  face, 

And  Tarquin's  eye  may  read  the  mot  afar,  830 

How  he  in  peace  is  wounded,  not  in  war. 
Alas,  how  many  bear  such  shameful  blows, 
Which  not  themselves,  but  he  that  gives  them  knows ! 

'  If,  Collatine,  thine  honour  lay  in  me, 

From  me  by  strong  assault  it  is  bereft. 

My  honey  lost,  and  I,  a  drone-like  bee, 

Have  no  perfection  of  my  summer  left, 

But  robb'd  and  ransack'd  by  injurious  theft; 
In  thy  weak  hive  a  wandering  wasp  hath  crept, 
And  suck'd  the  honey  which  thy  chaste  bee  kept.    840 

6  Yet  am  I  guilty  of  thy  honour's  wrack ; 
Yet  for  thy  honour  did  I  entertain  him ; 
Coming  from  thee,  I  could  not  put  him  back, 
For  it  had  been  dishonour  to  disdain  him  : 
Besides,  of  weariness  he  did  complain  him, 
And  talk'd  of  virtue ;  O  unlook'd-for  evil, 
When  virtue  is  profan'd  in  such  a  devil ! 

1  Why  should  the  worm  intrude  the  maiden  bud? 
Or  hateful  cuckoos  hatch  in  sparrows'  nests? 

Or  toads  infect  fair  founts  with  venom  mud  ?  85° 

Or  tyrant  folly  lurk  in  gentle  breasts  ? 

Or  kings  be  breakers  of  their  own  behests? 

But  no  perfection  is  so  absolute, 

That  some  impurity  doth  not  pollute. 

'The  aged  man  that  coffers  up  his  gold 

Is  plagued  with  cramps  and  gouts  and  painful  fits. 

And  scarce  hath  eyes  his  treasure  to  behold, 

But  like  still-pining  Tantalus  he  sits, 

And  useless  barns  the  harvest  of  his  wits; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRE  CE.  IU 

Having  no  other  pleasure  of  his  gain  860 

But  torment  that  it  cannot  cure  his  pain. 

1  So  then  he  hath  it  when  he  cannot  use  it, 
And  leaves  it  to  be  master'd  by  his  young, 
Who  in  their  pride  do  presently  abuse  it; 
Their  father  was  too  weak,  and  they  too  strong, 
To  hold  their  cursed-blessed  fortune  long. 
The  sweets  we  wish  for  turn  to  loathed  sours 
Even  in  the  moment  that  we  call  them  ours. 

*  Unruly  blasts  wait  on  the  tender  spring; 
Unwholesome  weeds  take  root  with  precious  flowers ; 
The  adder  hisses  where  the  sweet  birds  sing;  87i 

What  virtue  breeds  iniquity  devours: 
We  have  no  good  that  we  can  say  is  ours, 

But  ill-annexed  Opportunity 

Or  kills  his  life  or  else  his  quality. 

*O  Opportunity,  thy  guilt  is  great ! 

'T  is  thou  that  execut'st  the  traitor's  treason: 

Thou  set'st  the  wolf  where  he  the  lamb  may  get; 

Whoever  plots  the  sin,  thou  point'st  the  season ; 

'T  is  thou  that  spurn'st  at  right,  at  law,  at  reason  ;       880 
And  in  thy  shady  cell,  where  none  may  spy  him, 
Sits  Sin,  to  seize  the  souls  that  wander  by  him. 

'Thou  mak'st  the  vestal  violate  her  oath; 

Thou  blow'st  the  fire  when  temperance  is  thaw'd ; 

Thou  smother'st  honesty,  thou  murther'st  troth ; 

Thou  foul  abettor  !  thou  notorious  bawd  ! 

Thou  plantest  scandal  and  displaces!  laud ; 
Thou  ravisher,  thou  traitor,  thou  false  thief, 
Thy  honey  turns  to  gall,  thy  joy  to  grief! 

'Thy  secret  pleasure  turns  to  open  shame,  890 

Thy  private  feasting  to  a  public  fast, 
Thy  smoothing  titles  to  a  ragged  name, 


II2  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Thy  sugar'd  tongue  to  bitter  wormwood  taste ; 

Thy  violent  vanities  can  never  last. 
How  comes  it  then,  vile  Opportunity, 
Being  so  bad,  such  numbers  seek  for  thee  ? 

1  When  wilt  thou  be  the  humble  suppliant's  friend, 
And  bring  him  where  his  suit  may  be  obtain'd  ? 
When  wilt  thou  sort  an  hour  great  strifes  to  end? 
Or  free  that  soul  which  wretchedness  hath  chain'd  ?      900 
Give  physic  to  the  sick,  ease  to  the  pain'd  ? 

The  poor,  lame,  blind,  halt,  creep,  cry  out  for  thee; 

But  they  ne'er  meet  with  Opportunity. 

'The  patient  dies  while  the  physician  sleeps; 

The  orphan  pines  while  the  oppressor  feeds ; 

Justice  is  feasting  while  the  widow  weeps ; 

Advice  is  sporting  while  infection  breeds. 

Thou  grant'st  no  time  for  charitable  deeds; 

Wrath,  envy,  treason,  rape,  and  murther's  rages, 
Thy  heinous  hours  wait  on  them  as  their  pages.      910 

'  When  Truth  and  Virtue  have  to  do  with  thee, 
A  thousand  crosses  keep  them  from  thy  aid: 
They  buy  thy  help;  but  Sin  ne'er  gives  a  fee, 
He  gratis  comes;  and  thou  art  well  appaid 
As  well  to  hear  as  grant  what  he  hath  said. 
My  Collatine  would  else  have  come  to  me 
When  Tarquin  did,  but  he  was  stay'd  by  thee. 

'  Guilty  thou  art  of  murther  and  of  theft, 

Guilty  of  perjury  and  subornation, 

Guilty  of  treason,  forgery,  and  shift,  920 

Guilty  of  incest,  that  abomination  ; 

An  accessary  by  thine  inclination 

To  all  sins  past,  and  all  that  are  to  come, 
From  the  creation  to  the  general  doom. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ,,3 

'  Misshapen  Time,  copesmate  of  ugly  Night, 
Swift  subtle  post,  carrier  of  grisly  care, 
Eater  of  youth,  false  slave  to  false  delight, 
Base  watch  of  woes,  sin's  pack-horse,  virtue's  snare, 
Thou  nursest  all  and  murther'st  all  that  are ; 

O,  hear  me  then,  injurious,  shifting  Time  !  930 

Be  guilty  of  my  death,  since  of  my  crime. 

'  Why  hath  thy  servant,  Opportunity, 
Betray'd  the  hours  thou  gav'st  me  to  repose, 
Cancell'd  my  fortunes,  and  enchained  me 
To  endless  date  of  never-ending  woes? 
Time's  office  is  to  fine  the  hate  of  foes, 

To  eat  up  errors  by  opinion  bred, 

Not  spend  the  dowry  of  a  lawful  bed. 

'  Time's  glory  is  to  calm  contending  kings, 
To  unmask  falsehood  and  bring  truth  to  light,  940 

To  stamp  the  seal  of  time  in  aged  things, 
To  wake  the  morn  and  sentinel  the  night, 
To  wrong  the  wronger  till  he  render  right, 
To  ruinate  proud  buildings  with  thy  hours, 
And  smear  with  dust  their  glittering  golden  towers; 

1  To  fill  with  worm-holes  stately  monuments, 
To  feed  oblivion  with  decay  of  things, 
To  blot  old  books  and  alter  their  contents, 
To  pluck  the  quills  from  ancient  ravens'  wings, 
To  dry  the  old  oak's  sap  and  cherish  springs,  950 

To  spoil  antiquities  of  hammer'd  steel, 
And  turn  the  giddy  round  of  Fortune's  wheel ; 

'  To  show  the  beldam  daughters  of  her  daughter, 
To  make  the  child  a  man,  the  man  a  child, 
To  slay  the  tiger  that  doth  live  by  slaughter, 
To  tame  the  unicorn  and  lion  wild, 
To  mock  the  subtle  in  themselves  beguil'd, 


II4  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

To  cheer  the  ploughman  with  increaseful  crops, 
And  waste  huge  stones  with  little  water-drops. 

4  Why  work'st  thou  mischief  in  thy  pilgrimage,  96o 

Unless  thou  couldst  return  to  make  amends? 

One  poor  retiring  minute  in  an  age 

Would  purchase  thee  a  thousand  thousand  friends, 

Lending  him  wit  that  to  bad  debtors  lends; 

O,  this  dread  night,  wouldst  thou  one  hour  come  back, 
I  could  prevent  this  storm  and  shun  thy  wrack ! 

1  Thou  ceaseless  lackey  to  eternity, 
With  some  mischance  cross  Tarquin  in  his  flight: 
Devise  extremes  beyond  extremity, 
To  make  him  curse  this  cursed  crimeful  night;  970 

Let  ghastly  shadows  his  lewd  eyes  affright, 
And  the  dire  thought  of  his  committed  evil 
Shape  every  bush  a  hideous  shapeless  devil. 

'  Disturb  his  hours  of  rest  with  restless  trances, 
Afflict  him  in  his  bed  with  bedrid  groans ; 
Let  there  bechance  him  pitiful  mischances, 
To  make  him  moan,  but  pity  not  his  moans; 
Stone  him  with  hardened  hearts,  harder  than  stones; 
And  let  mild  women  to  him  lose  their  mildness, 
Wilder  to  him  than  tigers  in  their  wildness.  980 

'Let  him  have  time  to  tear  his  curled  hair, 
Let  him  have  time  against  himself  to  rave, 
Let  him  have  time  of  Time's  help  to  despair, 
Let  him  have  time  to  live  a  loathed  slave, 
Let  him  have  time  a  beggar's  orts  to  crave, 
And  time  to  see  one  that  by  alms  doth  live 
Disdain  to  him  disdained  scraps  to  give. 

1  Let  him  have  time  to  see  his  friends  his  foes, 

And  merry  fools  to  mock  at  him  resort; 

Let  him  have  time  to  mark  how  slow  time  goes  990 


THE   RAPE   OF  LUCK  EC  E.  U5 

In  time  of  sorrow,  and  how  swift  and  short 

His  time  of  folly  and  his  time  of  sport ; 
And  ever  let  his  unrecalling  crime 
Have  time  to  wail  the  abusing  of  his  time. 

*O  Time,  thou  tutor  both  to  good  and  bad, 

Teach  me  to  curse  him  that  thou  taught'st  this  ill ! 

At  his  own  shadow  let  the  thief  run  mad, 

Himself  himself  seek  every  hour  to  kill ! 

Such  wretched  hands  such  wretched  blood  should  spill ; 
For  who  so  ba«e  would  such  an  office  have  1000 

As  slanderous  deathsman  to  so  base  a  slave? 

*  The  baser  is  he,  coming  from  a  king, 
To  shame  his  hope  with  deeds  degenerate ; 
The  mightier  man,  the  mightier  is  the  thing 
That  makes  him  honour'd  or  begets  him  hate, 
For  greatest  scandal  waits  on  greatest  state. 
The  moon  being  clouded  presently  is  miss'd, 
But  little  stars  may  hide  them  when  they  list. 

'The  crow  may  bathe  his  coal-black  wings  in  mire, 

And  unperceiv'd  fly  with  the  filth  away;  1010 

But  if  the  like  the  snow-white  swan  desire, 

The  stain  upon  his  silver  down  will  stay. 

Poor  grooms  are  sightless  night,  kings  glorious  day; 

Gnats  are  unnoted  wheresoe'er  they  fly, 

But  eagles  gaz'd  upon  with  every  eye. 

'  Out,  idle  words,  servants  to  shallow  fools  ! 

Unprofitable  sounds,  weak  arbitrators  ! 

Busy  yourselves  in  skill-contending  schools; 

Debate  where  leisure  serves  with  dull  debaters; 

To  trembling  clients  be  you  mediators  :  1020 

For  me,  I  force  not  argument  a  straw, 
Since  that  my  case  is  past  the  help  of  law. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

1  In  vain  I  rail  at  Opportunity, 
At  Time,  at  Tarquin,  and  uncheerful  Night; 
In  vain  I  cavil  with  mine  infamy, 
In  vain  I  spurn  at  my  confirm'd  despite: 
This  helpless  smoke  of  words  doth  me  no  right. 
The  remedy  indeed  to  do  me  good 
Is  to  let  forth  my  foul-defiled  blood. 

'  Poor  hand,  why  quiver'st  thou  at  this  decree  ? 

Honour  thyself  to  rid  me  of  this  shame ; 

For  if  I  die,  my  honour  lives  in  thee ; 

But  if  I  live,  thou  liv'st  in  my  defame : 

Since  thou  couldst  not  defend  thy  loyal  dame, 
And  wast  afeard  to  scratch  her  wicked  foe, 
Kill  both  thyself  and  her  for  yielding  so.' 

This  said,  from  her  betumbled  couch  she  starteth, 
To  find  some  desperate  instrument  of  death; 
But  this  no  slaughterhouse  no  tool  imparteth 
To  make  more  vent  for  passage  of  her  breath, 
Which,  thronging  through  her  lips,  so  vanisheth 
As  smoke  from  ^Etna,  that  in  air  consumes, 
Or  that  which  from  discharged  cannon  fumes. 

1  In  vain/  quoth  she, '  I  live,  and  seek  in  vain 
Some  happy  mean  to  end  a  hapless  life. 
I  fear'd  by  Tarquin's  falchion  to  be  slain, 
Yet  for  the  selfsame  purpose  seek  a  knife. 
But  when  I  fear'd  I  was  a  loyal  wife ; 

So  am  I  now :  O  no,  that  cannot  be; 

Of  that  true  type  hath  Tarquin  rifled  me. 

'O,  that  is  gone  for  which  I  sought  to  live, 
And  therefore  now  I  need  not  fear  to  die. 
To  clear  this  spot  by  death,  at  least  I  give 
A  badge  of  fame  to  slander's  livery, 
A  dying  life  to  living  infamy; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  j,y 

Poor  helpless  help,  the  treasure  stolen  away, 
To  burn  the  guiltless  casket  where  it  lay ! 

'  Well,  well,  dear  Collatine,  thou  shalt  not  know 
The  stained  taste  of  violated  troth; 
I  will  not  wrong  thy  true  affection  so,  1060 

To  flatter  thee  with  an  infringed  oath; 
This  bastard  graff  shall  never  come  to  growth  : 
He  shall  not  boast  who  did  thy  stock  pollute 
'     That  thou  art  doting  father  of  his  fruit. 

1  Nor  shall  he  smile  at  thee  in  secret  thought, 
Nor  laugh  with  his  companions  at  thy  state ; 
But  thou  shalt  know  thy  interest  was  not  bought 
Basely  with  gold,  but  stolen  from  forth  thy  gate. 
For  me,  I  am  the  mistress  of  my  fate, 

And  with  my  trespass  never  will  dispense,  1070 

Till  life  to  death  acquit  my  forc'd  offence. 

' 1  will  not  poison  thee  with  my  attaint, 
Nor  fold  my  fault  in  cleanly-coin'd  excuses ; 
My  sable  ground  of  sin  I  will  not  paint, 
To  hide  the  truth  of  this  false  night's  abuses: 
My  tongue  shall  utter  all ;  mine  eyes,  like  sluices, 
As  from  a  mountain-spring  that  feeds  a  dale, 
Shall  gush  pure  streams  to  purge  my  impure  tale.' 

By  this,  lamenting  Philomel  had  ended 
The  well-tun'd  warble  of  her  nightly  sorrow,  1080 

And  solemn  night  with  slow  sad  gait  descended 
To  ugly  hell ;  when,  lo,  the  blushing  morrow 
Lends  light  to  all  fair  eyes  that  light  will  borrow: 
But  cloudy  Lucrece  shames  herself  to  see, 
And  therefore  still  in  night  would  cloister'd  be. 

Revealing  day  through  every  cranny  spies, 

And  seems  to  point  her  out  where  she  sits  weeping; 

To  whom  she  sobbing  speaks  :  '  O  eye  of  eyes, 


IX8  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Why  pry'st  thou  through  my  window?  leave  thy  peep- 
ing ; 

Mock  with  thy  tickling  beams  eyes  that  are  sleeping; 
Brand  not  my  forehead  with  thy  piercing  light,       1091 
For  day  hath  nought  to  do  what  's  done  by  night.' 

Thus  cavils  she  with  every  thing  she  sees : 
True  grief  is  fond  and  testy  as  a  child, 
Who  wayward  once,  his  mood  with  nought  agrees ; 
Old  woes,  not  infant  sorrows,  bear  them  mild : 
Continuance  tames  the  one ;  the  other  wild, 
Like  an  unpractis'd  swimmer  plunging  still, 
With  too  much  labour  drowns  for  want  of  skill. 

So  she,  deep-drenched  in  a  sea  of  care,  uoc 

Holds  disputation  with  each  thing  she  views, 

And  to  herself  all  sorrow  doth  compare ; 

No  object  but  her  passion's  strength  renews ; 

And  as  one  shifts,  another  straight  ensues  : 

Sometime  her  grief  is  dumb  and  hath  no  words, 
Sometime  't  is  mad  and  too  much  talk  affords. 

The  little  birds  that  tune  their  morning's  joy 
Make  her  moans  mad  with  their  sweet  melody  : 
For  mirth  doth  search  the  bottom  of  annoy  : 
Sad  souls  are  slain  in  merry  company ;  me 

Grief  best  is  pleas'd  with  griefs  society; 
True  sorrow  then  is  feelingly  suffic'd 
When  with  like  semblance  it  is  sympathiz'cl. 

'T  is  double  death  to  drown  in  ken  of  shore ; 
He  ten  times  pines  that  pines  beholding  food ; 
To  see  the  salve  doth  make  the  wound  ache  more  ; 
Great  grief  grieves  most  at  that  would  do  it  good ; 
Deep  woes  roll  forward  like  a  gentle  flood, 

Who,  being  stopp'd,  the  bounding  banks  o'erflows  ; 

Grief  dallied  with  nor  law  nor  limit  knows.  1120 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ,,9 

1  You  mocking  birds/  quoth  she, '  your  tunes  entomb 
Within  your  hollow-swelling  feather'd  breasts, 
And  in  my  hearing  be  you  mute  and  dumb ; 
My  restless  discord  loves  no  stops  nor  rests ; 
A  woeful  hostess  brooks  not  merry  guests : 

Relish  your  nimble  notes  to  pleasing  ears ; 

Distress  likes  dumps  when  time  is  kept  with  tears. 

*  Come,  Philomel,  that  sing'st  of  ravishment, 
Make  thy  sad  grove  in  my  dishevell'd  hair : 
As  the  dank  earth  weeps  at  thy  languishment,  ii30 

So  I  at  each  sad  strain  will  strain  a  tear, 
And  with  deep  groans  the  diapason  bear ; 
For  burden-wise  I  '11  hum  on  Tarquin  still, 
While  thou  on  Tereus  descant'st  better  skill. 

'  And  whiles  against  a  thorn  thou  bear'st  thy  part, 
To  keep  thy  sharp  woes  waking,  wretched  I, 
To  imitate  thee  well,  against  my  heart 
Will  fix  a  sharp  knife  to  affright  mine  eye, 
Who,  if  it  wink,  shall  thereon  fall  and  die. 

These  means,  as  frets  upon  an  instrument,  1140 

Shall  tune  our  heart-strings  to  true  languishment. 

'  And  for,  poor  bird,  thou  sing'st  not  in  the  day, 
As  shaming  any  eye  should  thee  behold, 
Some  dark  deep  desert,  seated  from  the  way, 
That  knows  not  parching  heat  nor  freezing  cold, 
Will  we  find  out;  and  there  we  will  unfold 

To  creatures  stern  sad  tunes,  to  change  their  kinds: 
Since  men  prove  beasts,  let  beasts  bear  gentle  minds.' 

As  the  poor  frighted  deer,  that  stands  at  gaze, 

Wildly  determining  which  way  to  fly,  1150 

Or  one  encompass'd  with  a  winding  maze, 

That  cannot  tread  the  way  out  readily; 

So  with  herself  is  she  in  mutiny, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

To  live  or  die  which  of  the  twain  were  better, 
When  life  is  sham'd,  and  death  reproach's  debtor. 

'To  kill  myself,'  quoth  she, '  alack,  what  were  it, 
But  with  my  body  my  poor  soul's  pollution  ? 
They  that  lose  half  with  greater  patience  bear  it 
Than  they  whose  whole  is  swallow'd  in  confusion. 
That  mother  tries  a  merciless  conclusion  n6c 

Who,  having  two  sweet  babes,  when  death  takes  one, 
Will  slay  the  other  and  be  nurse  to  none. 

'  My  body  or  my  soul,  which  was  the  dearer, 
When  the  one  pure,  the  other  made  divine? 
Whose  love  of  either  to  myself  was  nearer, 
When  both  were  kept  for  heaven  and  Collatine  ? 
Ay  me !  the  bark  peel'd  from  the  lofty  pine, 

His  leaves  will  wither  and  his  sap  decay ; 

So  must  my  soul,  her  bark  being  peel'd  away. 

1  Her  house  is  sack'd,  her  quiet  interrupted,  n7o 

Her  mansion  batter'd  by  the  enemy ; 

Her  sacred  temple  spotted,  spoil'd,  corrupted, 

Grossly  engirt  with  daring  infamy : 

Then  let  it  not  be  call'd  impiety, 

If  in  this  blemish'd  fort  I  make  some  hole 
Through  which  I  may  convey  this  troubled  soul. 

1  Yet  die  I  will  not  till  my  Collatine 

Have  heard  the  cause  of  my  untimely  death  ; 

That  he  may  vow,  in  that  sad  hour  of  mine, 

Revenge  on  him  that  made  me  stop  my  breath.          n8o 

My  stained  blood  to  Tarquin  I  '11  bequeath, 

Which  by  him  tainted  shall  for  him  be  spent, 

And  as  his  due  writ  in  my  testament. 

1  My  honour  I  '11  bequeath  unto  the  knife 
That  wounds  my  body  so  dishonoured. 
T  is  honour  to  deprive  dishonour'd  life; 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  12l 

The  one  will  live,  the  other  being  dead : 
So  of  shame's  ashes  shall  my  fame  be  bred, 

For  in  my  death  I  murther  shameful  scorn ; 

My  shame  so  dead,  mine  honour  is  new-born.         1190 

'  Dear  lord  of  that  dear  jewel  I  have  lost, 

What  legacy  shall  I  bequeath  to  thee  ? 

My  resolution,  love,  shall  be  thy  boast, 

By  whose  example  thou  reveng'd  mayst.be. 

How  Tarquin  must  be  us'd,  read  it  in  me ; 
Myself,  thy  friend,  will  kill  myself,  thy  foe, 
And  for  my  sake  serve  thou  false  Tarquin  so. 

6  This  brief  abridgement  of  my  will  I  make: 
My  soul  and  body  to  the  skies  and  ground; 
My  resolution,  husband,  do  thou  take  ;  1200 

Mine  honour  be  the  knife's  that  makes  my  wound  ; 
My  shame  be  his  that  did  my  fame  confound ; 
And  all  my  fame  that  lives  disbursed  be 
To  those  that  live,  and  think  no  shame  of  me. 

4  Thou,  Collatine,  shalt  oversee  this  will ; 

How  was  I  overseen  that  thou  shalt  see  it! 

My  blood  shall  wash  the  slander  of  mine  .ill; 

My  life's  foul  deed,  my  life's  fair  end  shall  free  it. 

Faint  not,  faint  heart,  but  stoutly  say  "  So  be  it :" 
Yield  to  my  hand ;  my  hand  shall  conquer  thee  :    mo 
Thou  dead,  both  die,  and  both  shall  victors  be.' 

This  plot  of  death  when  sadly  she  had  laid, 
And  wip'd  the  brinish  pearl  from  her  bright  eyes, 
With  untun'd  tongue  she  hoarsely  calls  her  maid, 
Whose  swift  obedience  to  her  mistress  hies; 
For  fleet-wing'd  duty  with  thought's  feathers  flies. 
Poor  Lucrece'  cheeks  unto  her  maid  seem  so 
As  winter  meads  when  sun  doth  melt  their  snow. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Her  mistress  she  doth  give  demure  good-morrow. 
With  soft-slow  tongue,  true  mark  of  modesty,  1220 

And  sorts  a  sad  look  to  her  lady's  sorrow, 
For  why,  her  face  wore  sorrow's  livery ; 
But  durst  not  ask  of  her  audaciously 

Why  her  two  suns  were  cloud-eclipsed  so, 
Nor  why  her  fair  cheeks  over-wash'd  with  woe. 

But  as  the  earth  doth  weep,  the  sun  being  set, 

Each  flower  moisten'd  like  a  melting  eye, 

Even  so  the  maid  with  swelling  drops  gan  wet 

Her  circled  eyne,  enforc'd  by  sympathy 

Of  those  fair  suns  set  in  her  mistress'  sky,  1230 

Who  in  a  salt-wav'd  ocean  quench  their  light, 
Which  makes  the  maid  weep  like  the  dewy  night. 

A  pretty  while  these  pretty  creatures  stand, 
Like  ivory  conduits  coral  cisterns  filling : 
One  justly  weeps  ;  the  other  takes  in  hand 
No  cause,  but  company, -of  her  drops  spilling: 
Their  gentle  sex  to  weep  are  often  willing ; 

Grieving  themselves  to  guess  at  others'  smarts, 
And  then  they  drown  their  eyes  or  break  their  hearts. 

For  men  have  marble,  women  waxen,  minds,  1240 

And  therefore  are  they  form'd  as  marble  will ; 
The  weak  oppress'd,  the  impression  of  strange  kinds 
Is  form'd  in  them  by  force,  by  fraud,  or  skill  : 
Then  call  them  not  the  authors  of  their  ill, 
No  more  than  wax  shall  be  accounted  evil 
Wherein  is  stamp'd  the  semblance  of  a  devil. 

Their  smoothness,  like  a  goodly  champaign  plain, 
Lays  open  all  the  little  worms  that  creep; 
In  men,  as  in  a  rough-grown  grove,  remain 
Cave-keeping  evils  that  obscurely  sleep  :  1250 

Through  crystal  walls  each  little  mote  will  peep; 


THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  12^ 

Though  men  can  cover  crimes  with  bold  stern  looks, 
Poor  women's  faces  are  their  own  faults'  books. 

No  man  inveigh  against  the  wither'd  flower, 
But  chide  rough  winter  that  the  flower  hath  kill'd ; 
Not  that  devour'd,  but  that  which  doth  devour, 
Is  worthy  blame.     O,  let  it  not  be  hild 
Poor  women's  faults,  that  they  are  so  fulfill'd 

With  men's  abuses;  those  proud  lords,  to  blame, 
Make  weak-made  women  tenants  to  their  shame.  1260 

The  precedent  whereof  in  Lucrece  view, 
Assail'd  by  night  with  circumstances  strong 
Of  present  death,  and  shame  that  might  ensue 
By  that  her  death,  to  do  her  husband  wrong: 
Such  danger  to  resistance  did  belong, 

That  dying  fear  through  all  her  body  spread ; 

And  who  cannot  abuse  a  body  dead? 

By  this,  mild  patience  bid  fair  Lucrece  speak 
To  the  poor  counterfeit  of  her  complaining: 
6  My  girl,'  quoth  she,  '  on  what  occasion  break  127° 

Those  tears  from  thee,  that  down  thy  cheeks  are  rain- 
ing? 
If  thou  dost  weep  for  grief  of  my  sustaining, 

Know,  gentle  wench,  it  small  avails  my  mood; 

If  tears  could  help,  mine  own  would  do  me  good. 

'  But  tell  me,  girl,  when  went  '—and  there  she  stay'd 
Till  after  a  deep  groan — 'Tarquin  from  hence?' 
4  Madam,  ere  I  was  up,'  replied  the  maid, 
'  The  more  to  blame  my  sluggard  negligence ; 
Yet  with  the  fault  I  thus  far  can  dispense,— 

Myself  was  stirring  ere  the  break  of  day,  ***> 

And,  ere  I  rose,  was  Tarquin  gone  away. 

'  But,  lady,  if  your  maid  may  be  so  bold, 
She  would  request  to  know  your  heaviness.' 


124 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

'O,  peace  !'  quoth  Lucrece  :  *  if  it  should  be  told, 

The  repetition  cannot  make  it  less, 

For  more  it  is  than  I  can  well  express ; 
And  that  deep  torture  may  be  call'd  a  hell 
When  more  is  felt  than  one  hath  power  to  tell. 

'  Go,  get  me  hither  paper,  ink,  and  pen  ; — 

Yet  save  that  labour,  for  I  have  them  here.  i 

What  should  I  say?     One  of  my  husband's  men 

Bid  thou  be  ready,  by  and  by,  to  bear 

A  letter  to  my  lord,  my  love,  my  dear: 

Bid  him  with  speed  prepare  to  carry  it; 

The  cause  craves  haste,  and  it  will  soon  be  writ.' 

Her  maid  is  gone,  and  she  prepares  to  write, 
First  hovering  o'er  the  paper  with  her  quill : 
Conceit  and.  grief  an  eager  combat  fight ; 
What  wit  sets  down  is  blotted  straight  with  will ; 
This  is  too  curious-good,  this  blunt  and  ill:  i 

Much  like  a  press  of  people  at  a  door, 
Throng  her  inventions,  which  shall  go  before. 

At  last  she  thus  begins :  '  Thou  worthy  lord 
Of  that  unworthy  wife  that  greeteth  thee, 
Health  to  thy  person  !  next  vouchsafe  t'  afford — 
If  ever,  love,  thy  Lucrece  thou  wilt  see — 
Some  present  speed  to  come  and  visit  me. 

So,  I  commend  me  from  our  house  in  grief; 

My  woes  are  tedious,  though  my  words  are  brief.' 

Here  folds  she  up  the  tenour  of  her  woe,  i 

Her  certain  sorrow  writ  uncertainly. 

By  this  short  schedule  Collatine  may  know 

Her  grief,  but  not  her  griefs  true  quality ; 

She  dares  not  thereof  make  discovery, 

Lest  he  should  hold  it  her  own  gross  abuse, 

Ere  she  with  blood  had  stain'd  her  stain'd  excuse. 


THE  It  APE   OF  LUCRECE.  125 

Besides,  the  life  and  feeling  of  her  passion 
She  hoards,  to  spend  when  he  is  by  to  hear  her; 
When  sighs  and  groans  and  tears  may  grace  the  fashion 
Of  her  disgrace,  the  better  so  to  clear  her  1320 

From  that  suspicion  which  the  world  might  bear  her. 
To  shun  this  blot,  she  would  not  blot  the  letter 
With  words,  till  action  might  become  them  better. 

To  see  sad  sights  moves  more  than  hear  them  told; 

For  then  the  eye  interprets  to  the  ear 

The  heavy  motion  that  it  doth  behold, 

When  every  part  a  part  of  woe  doth  bear. 

'T  is  but  a  part  of  sorrow  that  we  hear; 

Deep  sounds  make  lesser  noise  than  shallow  fords, 
And  sorrow  ebbs,  being  blown  with  wind  of  words. 

Her  letter  now  is  seal'd,  and  on  it  writ  1331 

'  At  Ardea  to  my  lord  with  more  than  haste/ 
The  post  attends,  and  she  delivers  it, 
Charging  the  sour-fac'd  groom  to  hie  as  fast 
As  lagging  fowls  before  the  northern  blast: 

Speed  more  than  speed  but  dull  and  slow  she  deems ; 

Extremity  still  urgeth  such  extremes. 

The  homely  villain  curtsies  to  her  low, 

And,  blushing  on  her,  with  a  steadfast  eye 

Receives  the  scroll  without  or  yea  or  no,  1340 

And  forth  with  bashful  innocence  doth  hie. 

But  they  whose  guilt  within  their  bosoms  lie 

Imagine  every  eye  beholds  their  blame ; 

For  Lucrece  thought  he  blush'd  to  see  her  shame, 

When,  silly  groom  !  God  wot,  it  was  defect 
Of  spirit,  life,  and  bold  audacity. 
Such  harmless  creatures  have  a  true  respect 
To  talk  in  deeds,  while  others  saucily 
Promise  more  speeci,  but  do  it  leisurely; 


I26  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Even  so  this  pattern  of  the  worn-out  age  1350 

Pawn'd  honest  looks,  but  laid  no  words  to  gage. 

His  kindled  duty  kindled  her  mistrust, 
That  two  red  fires  in  both  their  faces  blaz'd  ; 
She  thought  he  blush'd,  as  knowing  Tarquin's  lust, 
And,  blushing  with  him,  wistly  on  him  gaz'd. 
Her  earnest  eye  did  make  him  more  amaz'd ; 

The  more  she  saw  the  blood  his  cheeks  replenish, 
The  more  she  thought  he  spied  in  her  some  blemish. 

But  long  she  thinks  till  he  return  again, 

And  yet  the  duteous  vassal  scarce  is  gone.  1360 

The  weary  time  she  cannot  entertain, 

For  now  't  is  stale  to  sigh,  to  weep,  and  groan ; 

So  woe  hath  wearied  woe,  moan  tired  moan, 
That  she  her  plaints  a  little  while  doth  stay, 
Pausing  for  means  to  mourn  some  newer  way. 

At  last  she  calls  to  mind  where  hangs  a  piece 
Of  skilful  painting,  made  for  Priam's  Troy, 
Before  the  which  is  drawn  the  power  of  Greece, 
For  Helen's  rape  the  city  to  destroy, 
Threatening  cloud-kissing  Ilion  with  annoy;  1370 

Which  the  conceited  painter  drew  so  proud, 
As  heaven,  it  seem'd,  to  kiss  the  turrets  bow'd. 

A  thousand  lamentable  objects  there, 
In  scorn  of  nature,  art  gave  lifeless  life: 
Many  a  dry  drop  seem'd  a  weeping  tear, 
Shed  for  the  slaughter'd  husband  by  the  wife; 
The  red  blood  reek'd,  to  show  the  painter's  strife, 

And  dying  eyes  gleam'd  forth  their  ashy  lights. 

Like  dying  coals  burnt  out  in  tedious  nights. 

There  might  you  see  the  labouring  pioneer  1380 

Begrim'd  with  sweat,  and  smeared  all  with  dust ; 
And  from  the  towers  of  Troy  there-would  appear 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRE CE.  I2j 

The  very  eyes  of  men  through  loop-holes  thrust, 

Gazing  upon  the  Greeks  with  little  lust: 

Such  sweet  observance  in  this  work  was  had, 
That  one  might  see  those  far-off  eyes  look  sad. 

In  great  commanders  grace  and  majesty 
You  might  behold,  triumphing  in  their  faces ; 
In  youth,  quick  bearing  and  dexterity; 
And  here  and  there  the  painter  interlaces  i39o 

Pale  cowards,  marching  on  with  trembling  paces, 
Which  heartless  peasants  did  so  well  resemble, 
That  one  would  swear  he  saw  them  quake  and  tremble. 

In  Ajax  and  Ulysses,  O,  what  art 
Of  physiognomy  might  one  behold  ! 
The  face  of  either  cipher'd  cither's  heart, 
Their  face  their  manners  most  expressly  told: 
In  Ajax'  eyes  blunt  rage  and  rigour  roll'd, 
But  the  mild  glance  that  sly  Ulysses  lent 
Show'd  deep  regard  and  smiling  government.         1400 

There  pleading  might  you  see  grave  Nestor  stand, 
As  't  were  encouraging  the  Greeks  to  fight, 
Making  such  sober  action  with  his  hand, 
That  it  beguil'd  attention,  charm'd  the  sight; 
In  speech,  it  seem'd,  his  beard,  all  silver  white, 
Wagg'd  up  and  down,  and  from  his  lips  did  fly 
Thin  winding  breath,  which  purl'd  up  to  the  sky. 

About  him  were  a  press  of  gaping  faces, 
Which  seem'd  to  swallow  up  his  sound  advice; 
All  jointly  listening,  but  with  several  graces,  1410 

As  if  some  mermaid  did  their  ears  entice, 
Some  high,  some  low,  the  painter  was  so  nice : 
The  scalps  of  many,  almost  hid  behind, 
To  jump  up  higher  seem'd,  to  mock  the  mind. 
9 


I2g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Here  one  man's  hand  lean'd  on  another's  head, 

His  nose  being  shadow'd  by  his  neighbour's  ear; 

Here  one  being  throng'd  bears  back,  all  bollen  and  red  ; 

Another  smother'd  seems  to  pelt  and  swear; 

And  in  their  rage  such  signs  of  rage  they  bear, 

As,  but  for  loss  of  Nestor's  golden  words,  1420 

It  seem'd  they  would  debate  with  angry  swords. 

For  much  imaginary  work  was  there; 
Conceit  deceitful,  so  compact,  so  kind, 
That  for  Achilles'  image  stood  his  spear, 
Grip'd  in  an  armed  hand;  himself,  behind, 
Was  left  unseen,  save  to  the  eye  of  mind: 

A  hand,  a  foot,  a  face,  a  leg,  a  head,' 

Stood  for  the  whole  to  be  imagined. 

And  from  the  walls  of  strong-besieged  Troy 
When  their  brave  hope,  bold  Hector,  march'd  to  field, 
Stood  many  Trojan  mothers,  sharing  joy  i43i 

To  see  their  youthful  sons  bright  weapons  wield ; 
And  to  their  hope  they  such  odd  action  yield, 
That  through  their  light  joy  seemed  to  appear, 
Like  bright  things  stain'd,  a  kind  of  heavy  fear. 

And  from  the  strand  of  Dardan,  where  they  fought, 
To  Simois'  reedy  banks  the  red  blood  ran, 
Whose  waves  to  imitate  the  battle  sought 
With  swelling  ridges;  and  their  ranks  began 
To  break  upon  the  galled  shore,  and  than  1440 

Retire  again,  till,  meeting  greater  ranks, 
They  join  and  shoot  their  foam  at  Simois'  banks. 

To  this  well-painted  piece  is  Lucrece  come, 
To  find  a  face  where  all  distress  is  stell'd. 
Many  she  sees  where  cares  have  carved  some, 
But  none  where  all  distress  and  dolour  dwell'd. 
Till  she  despairing  Hecuba  beheld. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  I2g 

Staring  on  Priam's  wounds  with  her  old  eyes, 
Which  bleeding  under  Pyrrhus'  proud  foot  lies. 

In  her  the  painter  had  anatomiz'd  i450 

Time's  ruin,  beauty's  wrack,  and  grim  care's  reign : 
Her  cheeks  with  chaps  and  wrinkles  were  disguis'd; 
Of  what  she  was  no  semblance  did  remain  : 
Her  blue  blood,  chang'd  to  black  in  every  vein, 

Wanting  the  spring  that  those  shrunk  pipes  had  fed, 

Show'd  life  imprison'd  in  a  body  dead. 

On  this  sad  shadow  Lucrece  spends  her  eyes, 

And  shapes  her  sorrow  to  the  beldam's  woes, 

Who  nothing  wants  to  answer  her  but  cries, 

And  bitter  words  to  ban  her  cruel  foes.  1460 

Tbe  painter  was  no  god  to  lend  her  those ; 

And  therefore  Lucrece  swears  he  did  her  wrong, 
To  give  her  so  much  grief  and  not  a  tongue. 

6  Poor  instrument,'  quoth  she, '  without  a  sound, 
I  '11  tune  thy  woes  with  my  lamenting  tongue, 
And  drop  sweet  balm  in  Priam's  painted  wound, 
And  rail  on  Pyrrhus  that  hath  done  him  wrong, 
And  with  my  tears  quench  Troy  that  burns  so  long, 
And  with  my  knife  scratch  out  the  angry  eyes 
Of  all  the  Greeks  that  are  thine  enemies.  '*7° 

'  Show  me  the  strumpet  that  began  this  stir, 
That  with  my  nails  her  beauty  I  may  tear. 
Thy  heat  of  lust,  fond  Paris,  did  incur 
This  load  of  wrath  that  burning  Troy  doth  bear  ; 
Thy  eye  kindled  the  fire  that  burneth  here ; 
And  here  in  Troy,  for  trespass  of  thine  eye, 
The  sire,  the  son,  the  dame,  and  daughter  die. 

4  Why  should  the  private  pleasure  of  some  one 

Become  the  public  plague  of  many  moe? 

Let  sin,  alone  committed,  light  alone  «4«o 


I30  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Upon  his  head  that  hath  transgressed  so; 
Let  guiltless  souls  be  freed  from  guilty  woe: 

For  one's  offence  why  should  so  many  fall, 

To  plague  a  private  sin  in  general  ? 

'  Lo,  here  weeps  Hecuba,  here  Priam  dies, 
Here  manly  Hector  faints,  here  Troilus  swounds, 
Here  friend  by  friend  in  bloody  channel  lies, 
And  friend  to  friend  gives  unadvised  wounds, 
And  one  man's  lust  these  many  lives  confounds ; 

Had  doting  Priam  check'd  his  son's  desire,  1490 

Troy  had  been  bright  with  fame  and  not  with  fire.' 

Here  feelingly  she  weeps  Troy's  painted  woes: 
For  sorrow,  like  a  heavy-hanging  bell, 
Once  set  on  ringing,  with  his  own  weight  goes  ; 
Then  little  strength  rings  out  the  doleful  knell. 
So  Lucrece,  set  a-work,  sad  tales  doth  tell 

To  pencill'd  pensiveness  and  colour'd  sorrow; 

She  lends  them  words,  and  she  their  looks  doth  borrow. 

She  throws  her  eyes  about  the  painting  round, 
And  who  she  finds  forlorn  she  doth  lament.  1500 

At  last  she  sees  a  wretched  image  bound, 
That  piteous  looks  to  Phrygian  shepherds  lent: 
His  face,  though  full  of  cares,  yet  show'd  content ; 
Onward  to  Troy  with  the  blunt  swains  he  goes, 
So  mild,  that  Patience  seem'd  to  scorn  his  woes. 

In  him  the  painter  labour'd  with  his  skill 
To  hide  deceit,  and  give  the  harmless  show 
An  humble  gait,  calm  looks,  eyes  wailing  still, 
A  brow  unbent,  that  seem'd  to  welcome  woe ; 
Cheeks  neither  red  nor  pale,  but  mingled  so  1510 

That  blushing  red  no  guilty  instance  gave, 
Nor  ashy  pale  the  fear  that  false  hearts  have. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  l^l 

But,  like  a  constant  and  confirmed  devil, 

He  entertain'cl  a  show  so  seeming  just, 

And  therein  so  ensconc'd  his  secret  evil, 

That  jealousy  itself  could  not  mistrust 

False-creeping  craft  and  perjury  should  thrust 
Into  so  bright  a  day  such  black-fac'd  storms, 
Or  blot  with  hell-born  sin  such  saintlike  forms. 

The  well-skilPd  workman  this  mild  image  drew          1520 
For  perjur'd  Sinon,  whose  enchanting  story 
The  credulous  old  Priam  after  slew ; 
Whose  words  like  wildfire  burnt  the  shining  glory 
Of  rich-built  Ilion,  that  the  skies  were  sorry, 
And  little  stars  shot  from  their  fixed  places, 
When  their  glass  fell  wherein  they  view'd  their  faces. 

This  picture  she  advisedly  perus'd, 
And  chid  the  painter  for  his  wondrous  skill, 
Saying,  some  shape  in  Sinon's  was  abus'd  ; 
So  fair  a  form  lodg'd  not  a  mind  so  ill :  1530 

And  still  on  him  she  gaz'd;  and  gazing  still, 
Such  signs  of  truth  in  his  plain  face  she  spied, 
That  she  concludes  the  picture  was  belied. 

1  It  cannot  be,'  quoth  she, '  that  so  much  guile ' — 
She  would  have  said  £  can  lurk  in  such  a  look;' 
But  Tarquin's  shape  came  in  her  mind  the  while, 
And  from  her  tongue  '  can  lurk'  from  l  cannot '  took. 
( It  cannot  be '  she  in  that  sense  forsook, 
And  turn'd  it  thus :  '  It  cannot  be,  I  find, 
But  such  a  face  should  bear  a  wicked  mind :  1540 

6  For  even  as  subtle  Sinon  here  is  painted, 
So  sober-sad,  so  weary,  and  so  mild, 
As  if  with  grief  or  travail  he  had  fainted, 
To  me  came  Tarquin  armed;  so  beguil'd 
With  outward  honesty,  but  yet  defiPd 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

With  inward  vice  :  as  Priam  him  did  cherish, 
So  did  I  Tarquin  ;  so  my  Troy  did  perish. 

'  Look,  look,  how  listening  Priam  wets  his  eyes, 

To  see  those  borrowed  tears  that  Sinon  sheds ! 

Priam,  why  art  thou  old  and  yet  not  Vise  ?  1550 

For  every  tear  he  falls  a  Trojan  bleeds: 

His  eye  drops  fire,  no  water  thence  proceeds; 

Those  round  clear  pearls  of  his,  that  move  thy  pity, 
Are  balls  of  quenchless  fire  to  burn  thy  city. 

6  Such  devils  steal  effects  from  lightless  hell ; 
For  Sinon  in  his  fire  doth  quake  with  cold, 
And  in  that  cold  hot-burning  fire  doth  dwell ; 
These  contraries  such  unity  do  hold, 
Only  to  flatter  fools  and  make  them  bold : 

So  Priam's  trust  false  Sinon's  tears  doth  flatter,      1560 
That  he  finds  means  to  burn  his  Troy  with  water.' 

Here,  all  enrag'd,  such  passion  her  assails, 
That  patience  is  quite  beaten  from  her  breast. 
She  tears  the  senseless  Sinon  with  her  nails, 
Comparing  him  to  that  unhappy  guest 
Whose  deed  hath  made  herself  herself  detest. 
At  last  she  smilingly  with  this  gives  o'er : 
*  Fool,  fool !'  quoth  she,  '  his  wounds  will  not  be  sore.' 

Thus  ebbs  and  flows  the  current  of  her  sorrow, 
And  time  doth  weary  time  with  her  complaining.        157° 
She  looks  for  night,  and  then  she  longs  for  morrow, 
And  both  she  thinks  too  long  with  her  remaining. 
Short  time  seems  long  in  sorrow's  sharp  sustaining . 

Though  woe  be  heavy,  yet  it  seldom  sleeps ; 

And  they  that  watch  see  time  how  slow  it  creeps. 

Which  all  this  time  hath  overslipp'd  her  thought, 
That  she  with  painted  images  hath  spent ; 
Being  from  the  feeling  of  her  own  grief  brought 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  i^ 

By  deep  surmise  of  others'  detriment, 

Losing  her  woes  in  shows  of  discontent.  1580 

It  easeth  some,  though  none  it  ever  cur'd, 
To  think  their  dolour  others  have  endur'd. 

But  now  the  mindful  messenger,  come  back, 
Brings  home  his  lord  and  other  company, 
Who  finds  his  Lucrece  clad  in  mourning  black ; 
And  round  about  her  tear-distained  eye 
Blue  circles  stream'd,  like  rainbows  in  the  sky  : 
These  water-galls  in  her  dim  element 
Foretell  new  storms  to  those  already  spent. 

Which  when  her  sad-beholding  husband  saw,  1590 

Amazedly  in  her  sad  face  he  stares; 

Her  eyes,  though  sod  in  tears,  look'd  red  and  raw, 

Her  lively  colour  kill'd  with  deadly  cares. 

He  hath  no  power  to  ask  her  how  she  fares; 
Both  stood,  like  old  acquaintance  in  a  trance, 
Met  far  from  home,  wondering  each  other's  chance. 

At  last  he  takes  her  by  the  bloodless  hand, 
And  thus  begins:  '  What  uncouth  ill  event 
Hath  thee  befallen, that  thou  dost  trembling  stand? 
Sweet  love,  what  spite  hath  thy  fair  colour  spent  ?      1600 
Why  art  thou  thus  attird  in  discontent? 
Unmask,  dear  dear,  this  moody  heaviness, 
And  tell  thy  grief,  that  we  may  give  redress.' 

Three  times  with  sighs  she  gives  her  sorrow  fire, 

Ere  once  she  can  discharge  one  word  of  woe ; 

At  length  address'd  to  answer  his  desire, 

She  modestly  prepares  to  let  them  know 

Her  honour  is  ta'en  prisoner  by  the  foe, 
While  Collatine  and  his  consorted  lords 
With  sad  attention  long  to  hear  her  words.  1610 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

And  now  this  pale  swan  in  her  watery  nest 
Begins  the  sad  dirge  of  her  certain  ending : 
*  Few  words/  quoth  she, '  shall  fit  the  trespass  best, 
Where  no  excuse  can  give  the  fault  amending ; 
In  me  moe  woes  than  words  are  now  depending, 
And  my  laments  would  be  drawn  out  too  long, 
To  tell  them  all  with  one  poor  tired  tongue. 

'  Then  be  this  all  the  task  it  hath  to  say : 

Dear  husband,  in  the  interest  of  thy  bed 

A  stranger  came,  and  on  that  pillow  lay  1620 

Where  thou  wast  wont  to  rest  thy  weary  head ; 

And  what  wrong  else  may  be  imagined 

By  foul  enforcement  might  be  done  to  me, 

From  that,  alas,  thy  Lucrece  is  not  free. 

6  For  in  the  dreadful  dead  of  dark  midnight, 
With  shining  falchion  in  my  chamber  came 
A  creeping  creature,  with  a  flaming  light, 
And  softly  cried  "Awake,  thou  Roman  dame, 
And  entertain  my  love  ;  else  lasting  shame 

On  thee  and  thine  this  night  I  will  inflict,  1630 

If  thou  my  love's  desire  do  contradict. 

'"For  some  hard-favour'd  groom  of  thine,"  quoth  he, 

"  Unless  thou  yoke  thy  liking  to  my  will, 

I  '11  murther  straight,  and  then  I  '11  slaughter  thee 

And  swear  I  found  you  where  you  did  fulfil 

The  loathsome  act  of  lust,  and  so  did  kill 

The  lechers  in  their  deed ;  this  act  will  be 

My  fame  and  thy  perpetual  infamy." 

4  With  this,  I  did  begin  to  start  and  cry; 

And  then  against  my  heart  he  sets  his  sword,  1640 

Swearing,  unless  I  took  all  patiently, 

I  should  not  live  to  speak  another  word ; 

So  should  my  shame  still  rest  upon  record, 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ,35 

And  never  be  forgot  in  mighty  Rome 

The  adulterate  death  of  Lucrece  and  her  groom. 

'  Mine  enemy  was  strong,  my  poor  self  weak, 

And  far  the  weaker  with  so  strong  a  fear : 

My  bloody  judge  forbade  my  tongue  to  speak  ; 

No  rightful  plea  might  plead  for  justice  there  : 

His  scarlet  lust  came  evidence  to  swear  1650 

That  my  poor  beauty  had  purloin'd  his  eyes ; 

And  when  the  judge  is  robb'd  the  prisoner  dies. 

'  O,  teach  me  how  to  make  mine  own  excuse  ! 

Or  at  the  least  this  refuge  let  me  find : 

Though  my  gross  blood  be  stain'd  with  this  abuse, 

Immaculate  and  spotless  is  my  mind  ; 

That  was  not  forc'd ;  that  never  was  inclin'd 
To  accessary  yieldings,  but  still  pure 
Doth  in  her  poison'd  closet  yet  endure.' 

Lo,  here,  the  hopeless  merchant  of  this  loss,  «66o 

With  head  declin'd,  and  voice  damm'd  up  with  woe, 
With  sad-set  eyes,  and  wretched  arms  across, 
From  lips  new-waxen  pale  begins  to  blow 
The  grief  away  that  stops  his  answer  so : 

But,  wretched  as  he  is,  he  strives  in  vain ; 

What  he  breathes  out  his  breath  drinks  up  again. 

As  through  an  arch  the  violent  roaring  tide 
Outruns  the  eye  that  doth  behold  his  haste, 
Yet  in  the  eddy  boundeth  in  his  pride 
Back  to  the  strait  that  forc'd  him  on  so  fast,  '670 

In  rage  sent  out, recall'd  in  rage,  being  past; 
Even  so  his  sighs,  his  sorrows,  make  a  saw, 
To  push  grief  on,  and  back  the  same  grief  draw. 

Which  speechless  woe  of  his  poor  she  attendeth, 

And  his  untimely  frenzy  thus  awaketh  : 

'  Dear  lord,  thy  sorrow  to  my  sorrow  lendeth 


I36  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Another  power;  no  flood  by  raining  slaketh. 

My  woe  too  sensible  thy  passion  maketh 
More  feeling-painful ;  let  it  then  suffice 
To  drown  one  woe,  one  pair  of  weeping  eyes.  1680 

'  And  for  my  sake,  when  I  might  charm  thee  so, 
For  she  that  was  thy  Lucrece, now  attend  me: 
Be  suddenly  revenged  on  my  foe, 
Thine,  mine,  his  own ;  suppose  thou  dost  defend  me 
From  what  is  past :  the  help  that  thou  shalt  lend  me 

Comes  all  too  late,  yet  let  the  traitor  die, 

For  sparing  justice  feeds  iniquity. 

'  But  ere  I  name  him,  you  fair  lords,'  quoth  she, 

Speaking  to  those  that  came  with  Collatine. 

1  Shall  plight  your  honourable  faiths  to  me,  1690 

With  swift  pursuit  to  venge  this  wrong  of  mine ; 

For  't  is  a  meritorious  fair  design 

To  chase  injustice  with  revengeful  arms : 
Knights,  by  their   oaths,  should    right   poor    ladies' 
harms.' 

At  this -request,  with  noble  disposition 
Each  present  lord  began  to  promise  aid, 
As  bound  in  knighthood  to  her  imposition, 
Longing  to  hear  the  hateful  foe  bewray'd. 
But  she,  that  yet  her  sad  task  hath  not  said, 

The  protestation  stops.     '  O,  speak,'  quoth  she,      1700 
'  How  may  this  forced  stain  be  wip'd  from  me? 

'  What  is  the  quality  of  mine  offence, 

Being  constrain'd  with  dreadful  circumstance  ? 

May  my  pure  mind  with  the  foul  act  dispense, 

My  low-declined  honour  to  advance  ? 

May  any  terms  acquit  me  from  this  chance? 

The  poison'd  fountain  clears  itself  again  ; 

And  why  not  I  from  this  compelled  stain?' 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ,3? 

With  this,  they  all  at  once  began  to  say, 

Her  body's  stain  her  mind  untainted  clears ;  1710 

While  with  a  joyless  smile  she  turns  away 

The  face,  that  map  which  deep  impression  bears 

Of  hard  misfortune,  carv'd  in  it  with  tears. 

'  No,  no,'  quoth  she,  l  no  dame,  hereafter  living, 
By  my  excuse  shall  claim  excuse's  giving/ 

Here  with  a  sigh,  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 
She  throws  forth  Tarquin's  name^:  '  He,  he,'  she  says, 
But  more  than  '  he  '  her  poor  tongue  could  not  speak ; 
Till  after  many  accents  and  delays, 
Untimely  breathings,  sick  and  short  assays,  1720 

She  utters  this  :  '  He,  he,  fair  lords,  't  is  he, 
That  guides  this  hand  to  give  this  wound  to  me.5 

Even  here  she  sheathed  in  her  harmless  breast 
A  harmful  knife,  that  thence  her  soul  unsheatrTd: 
That  blow  did  bail  it  from  the  deep  unrest 
Of  that  polluted  prison  where  it  breath'd  : 
Her  contrite  sighs  unto  the  clouds  bequeath'd 

Her  winged  sprite,  and  through  her  wounds  doth  fly 
Life's  lasting  date  from  cancell'd  destiny. 

Stone-still,  astonish'd  with  this  deadly  deed,  1730 

Stood  Collatine  and  all  his  lordly  crew; 

Till  Lucrece'  father,  that  beholds  her  bleed, 

Himself  on  her  self-slaughter'd  body  threw; 

And  from  the  purple  fountain  Brutus  drew 
The  murtherous  knife,  and,  as  it  left  the  place, 
Her  blood,  in  poor  revenge,  held  it  in  chase; 

And  bubbling  from  her  breast,  it  doth  divide 

In  two  slow  rivers,  that  the  crimson  blood 

Circles  her  body  in  on  every  side, 

Who,  like  a  late-sack'd  island,  vastly  stood  ,74o 

Bare  and  unpeopled  in  this  fearful  flood. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Some  of  her  blood  still  pure  and  red  remain'd, 

And  some  look'd  black,  and  that  false  Tarquin  stain'd. 

About  the  mourning  and  congealed  face 
Of  that  black  blood  a  watery  rigol  goes, 
Which  seems  to  weep  upon  the  tainted  place : 
And  ever  since,  as  pitying  Lucrece'  woes, 
Corrupted  blood  some  watery  token  shows; 
And  blood  untainted  still  doth  red  abide, 
Blushing  at  that  which  is  so  putrefied.  i75c 

1  Daughter,  dear  daughter,'  old  Lucretius  cries, 
'  That  life  was  mine  which  thou  hast  here  depriv'd. 
If  in  the  child  the  father's  image  lies, 
Where  shall  I  live  now  Lucrece  is  unliv'd  ? 
Thou  wast  not  to  this  end  from  me  deriv'd. 
If  children  pre-decease  progenitors, 
We  are  their  offspring,  and  they  none  of  ours. 

'  Poor  broken  glass,  I  often  did  behold 
In  thy  sweet  semblance  my  old  age  new  born  ; 
But  now  that  fair  fresh  mirror,  dim  and  old,  1760 

Shows  me  a  bare-bon'd  death  by  time  outworn  : 
O,  from  thy  cheeks  my  image  thou  hast  torn, 
And  shiver'd  all  the  beauty  of  my  glass, 
That  I  no  more  can  see  what  once  I  was ! 

'O  time,  cease  thou  thy  course  and  last  no  longer, 
If  they  surcease  to  be  that  should  survive. 
Shall  rotten  death  make  conquest  of  the  stronger 
And  leave  the  faltering  feeble  souls  alive  ? 
The  old  bees  die,  the  young  possess  their  hive ; 

Then  live,  sweet  Lucrece,  live  again  and  see  1770 

Thy  father  die,  and  not  thy  father  thee  !' 

By  this,  starts  Collatine  as  from  a  dream, 
And  bids  Lucretius  give  his  sorrow  place; 
And  then  in  key-cold  Lucrece'  bleeding  stream 


THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  l^g 

He  falls,  and  bathes  the  pale  fear  in  his  face, 
And  counterfeits  to  die  with  her  a  space, 

Till  manly  shame  bids  him  possess  his  breath 

And  live  to  be  revenged  on  her  death. 

The  deep  vexation  of  his  inward  soul 

Hath  serv'd  a  dumb  arrest  upon  his  tongue,  1780 

Who,  mad  that  sorrow  should  his  use  control, 

Or  keep  him  from  heart-easing  words  so  long, 

Begins  to  talk;  but  through  his  lips  do  throng 

Weak  words,  so  thick  come  in  his  poor  heart's  aid, 
That  no  man  could  distinguish  what  he  said. 

Yet  sometime  'Tarquin  '  was  pronounced  plain, 
But  through  his  teeth,  as  if  the  name  he  tore. 
This  windy  tempest,  till  it  blow  up  rain, 
Held  back  his  sorrow's  tide,  to  make  it  more; 
At  last  it  rains,  and  busy  winds  give  o'er:  1790 

Then  son  and  father  weep  with  equal  strife 
Who  should  weep  most,  for  daughter  or  for  wife. 

The  one  doth  call  her  his,  the  other  his, 
Yet  neither  may  possess  the  claim  they  lay. 
The  father  says  '  She  's  mine.'     '  O,  mine  she  is,J 
Replies  her  husband  :  '  do  not  take  away 
My  sorrow's  interest;  let  no  mourner  say 

He  weeps  for  her,  for  she  was  only  mine, 

And  only  must  be  wail'd  by  Collatine.' 

'  O,'  quoth  Lucretius, '  I  did  give  that  life  1800 

Which  she  too  early  and  too  late  hath  spill'd.' 
'  Woe,  woe,'  quoth  Collatine, '  she  was  my  wife, 
I  owed  her,  and  't  is  mine  that  she  hath  kill'd.' 
'  My  daughter '  and  '  my  wife  '  with  clamours  fill'd 
The  dispers'd  air,  who,  holding  Lucrece'  life, 
Answer'd  their  cries, '  my  daughter '  and  '  my  wife.' 


I40  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Brutus,  who  pluck'd  the  knife  from  Lucrece'  side, 
Seeing  such  emulation  in  their  woe, 
Began  to  clothe  his  wit  in  state  and  pride, 
Burying  in  Lucrece'  wound  his  folly's  show.  1810 

He  with  the  Romans  was  esteemed  so 
As  silly-jeering  idiots  are  with  kings, 
For  sportive  words  and  uttering  foolish  things; 

But  now  he  throws  that  shallow  habit  by, 

Wherein  deep  policy  did  him  disguise, 

And  arm'd  his  long-hid  wits  advisedly, 

To  check  the  tears  in  Collatinus'  eyes. 

'Thou  wronged  lord  of  Rome,'  quoth  he, '  arise; 
Let  my  unsounded  self,  suppos'd  a  fool, 
Now  set  thy  long-experienc'd  wit  to  school.  1820 

'  Why,  Collatine,  is  woe  the  cure  for  woe  ? 

Do  wounds  help  wounds,  or  grief  help  grievous  deeds  ? 

Is  it  revenge  to  give  thyself  a  blow 

For  his  foul  act  by  whom  thy  fair  wife  bleeds  ? 

Such  childish  humour  from  weak  minds  proceeds; 
Thy  wretched  wife  mistook  the  matter  so, 
To  slay  herself,  that  should  have  slain  her  foe. 

'  Courageous  Roman,  do  not  steep  thy  heart 

In  such  relenting  dew  of  lamentations; 

But  kneel  with  me  and  help  to  bear  thy  part,  1830 

To  rouse  our  Roman  gods  with  invocations, 

That  they  will  suffer  these  abominations, 

Since  Rome  herself  in  them  cloth  stand  disgrac'd, 
By  our  strong  arms  from  forth  her  fair  streets  chas'd. 

'  Now,  by  the  Capitol  that  we  adore, 

And  by  this  chaste  blood  so  unjustly  stain'd, 

By  heaven's  fair  sun  that  breeds  the  fat  earth's  store, 

By  all  our  country  rights  in  Rome  maintain'd, 

And  by  chaste  Lucrece'  soul  that  late  complain'd 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 

Her  wrongs  to  us,  and  by  this  bloody  knife, 
We  will  revenge  the  death  of  this  true  wife/ 

This  said,  he  struck  his  hand  upon  his  breast, 
And  kiss'd  the  fatal  knife,  to  end  his  vow ; 
And  to  his  protestation  urg'd  the  rest, 
Who,  wondering  at  him,  did  his  words  allow: 
Then  jointly  to  the  ground  their  knees  they  bow; 
And  that  deep  vow  which  Brutus  made  before 
He  doth  again  repeat,  and  that  they  swore. 

When  they  had  sworn  to  this  advised  doom, 
They  did  conclude  to  bear  dead  Lucrece  thence, 
To  show  her  bleeding  body  thorough  Rome, 
And  so  to  publish  Tarquin's  foul  offence; 
Which  being  done  with  speedy  diligence, 
The  Romans  plausibly  did  give  consent 
To  Tarquin's  everlasting  banishment. 


141 

1840 


1850 


KOMAN   MATRON. 


FROM  off  a  hill  whose  concave  womb  re-worded 
A  plaintful  story  from  a  sistering  vale, 
My  spirits  to  attend  this  double  voice  accorded, 
And  down  I  laid  to  list  the  sad-tun'd  tale; 
Ere  long  espied  a  fickle  maid  full  pale, 
Tearing  of  papers,  breaking  rings  a-twain, 
Storming  her  world  with  sorrow's  wind  and  rain. 

Upon  her  head  a  platted  hive  of  straw, 
Which  fortified  her  visage  from  the  sun, 
Whereon  the  thought  might  think  sometime  it  saw 


,46  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

The  carcass  of  a  beauty  spent  and  done; 
Time  had  not  scythed  all  that  youth  begun, 
Nor  youth  all  quit,  but,  spite  of  heaven's  fell  rage, 
Some  beauty  peep'd  through  lattice  of  sear'd  age. 

Oft  did  she  heave  her  napkin  to  her  eyne, 
Which  on  it  had  conceited  characters, 
Laundering  the  silken  figures  in  the  brine 
That  season'd  woe  had  pelleted  in  tears, 
And  often  reading  what  contents  it  bears ; 
As  often  shrieking  undistinguished  woe, 
In  clamours  of  all  size,  both  high  and  low. 

Sometimes  her  levelPd  eyes  their  carriage  ride, 
As  they  did  battery  to  the  spheres  intend ; 
Sometime  diverted  their  poor  balls  are  tied 
To  the  orbed  earth  ;  sometimes  they  do  extend 
Their  view  right  on  ;  anon  their  gazes  lend 
To  every  place  at  once,  and,  nowhere  fix'd, 
The  mind  and  sight  distractedly  comrnix'd. 

Her  hair,  nor  loose  nor  tied  in  formal  plat, 

Proclaim'd  in  her  a  careless  hand  of  pride, 

For  some,  untuck'd,  descended  her  sheav'd  hat, 

Hanging  her  pale  and  pined  cheek  beside ; 

Some  in  her  threaden  fillet  still  did  bide, 

And  true  to  bondage  would  not  break  from  thence, 

Though  slackly  braided  in  loose  negligence. 

A  thousand  favours  from  a  maund  she  drew 

Of  amber,  crystal,  and  of  beaded  jet, 

Which  one  by  one  she  in  a  river  threw, 

Upon  whose  weeping  margent  she  was  set; 

Like  usury,  applying  wet  to  wet, 

Or  monarch's  hands  that  let  not  bounty  fall 

Where  want  cries  some,  but  where  excess  begs  all. 


A   LOVER'S   COMPLAINT.  l^ 

Of  folded  schedules  had  she  many  a  one, 
Which  she  perus'd,  sigh'd,  tore,  and  gave  the  flood  ; 
Crack'd  many  a  ring  of  posied  gold  and  bone, 
Bidding  them  find  their  sepulchres  in  mud ; 
Found  yet  moe  letters  sadly  penn'd  in  blood, 
With  sleided  silk  feat  and  affectedly 
Enswath'd,  and  seal'd  to  curious  secrecy. 

These  often  bath'd  she  in  her  fluxive  eyes,  50 

And  often  kiss'd,  and  often  gan  to  tear: 

Cried  '  O  false  blood,  thou  register  of  lies, 

What  unapproved  witness  dost  thou  bear ! 

Ink  would  have  seem'd  more  black  and  damned  here !' 

This  said,  in  top  of  rage  the  lines  she  rents, 

Big  discontent  so  breaking  their  contents. 

A  reverend  man  that  graz'd  his  cattle  nigh — 

Sometime  a  blusterer,  that  the  ruffle  knew 

Of  court,  of  city,  and  had  let  go  by 

The  swiftest  hours,  observed  as  they  flew —  60 

Towards  this  afflicted  fancy  fastly  drew, 

And,  privileg'd  by  age,  desires  to  know 

In  brief  the  grounds  and  motives  of  her  woe. 

So  slides  he  down  upon  his  grained  bat, 

And  comely-distant  sits  he  by  her  side, 

When  he  again  desires  her,  being  sat, 

Her  grievance  with  his  hearing  to  divide ; 

If  that  from  him  there  may  be  aught  applied 

Which  may  her  suffering  ecstasy  assuage, 

'Tis  promis'd  in  the  charity  of  age.  70 

'  Father,'  she  says, '  though  in  me  you  behold 
The  injury  of  many  a  blasting  hour, 
Let  it  not  tell  your  judgment  I  am  old ; 
Not  age,  but  sorrow,  over  me  hath  power : 
I  might  as  yet  have  been  a  spreading  flower, 


14g  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Fresh  to  myself,  if  I  had  self-applied 
Love  to  myself  and  to  no  love  beside. 

'  But,  woe  is  me !  too  early  I  attended 
A  youthful  suit — it  was  to  gain  my  grace — 
Of  one  by  nature's  outwards  so  commended, 
That  maidens'  eyes  stuck  over  all  his  face; 
Love  lack'd  a  dwelling  and  made  him  her  place^ 
And  when  in  his  fair  parts  she  did  abide, 
She  was  new  loclg'd  and  newly  deified. 

'  His  browny  locks  did  hang  in  crooked  curls, 
And  every  light  occasion  of  the  wind 
Upon  his  lips  their  silken  parcels  hurls. 
What 's  sweet  to  do,  to  do  will  aptly  find ; 
Each  eye  that  saw  him  did  enchant  the  mind, 
For  on  his  visage  was  in  little  drawn 
What  largeness  thinks  in  Paradise  was  sawn. 

1  Small  show  of  man  was  yet  upon  his  chin ; 

His  phcenix  down  began  but  to  appear 

Like  unshorn  velvet  on  that  termless  skin 

Whose  bare  out-bragg'd  the  web  it  seem'd  to  wear : 

Yet  show'd  his  visage  by  that  cost  more  dear, 

And  nice  affections  wavering  stood  in  doubt 

If  best  were  as  it  was,  or  best  without. 

'  His  qualities  were  beauteous  as  his  form, 

For  maiden-tongued  he  was,  and  thereof  free; 

Yet,  if  men  mov'd  him,  was  he  such  a  storm 

As  oft  'twixt  May  and  April  is  to  see, 

When  winds  breathe  sweet,  unruly  though  they  be. 

His  rudeness  so  with  his  authoriz'd  youth 

Did  livery  falseness  in  a  pride  of  truth. 

1  Well  could  he  ride,  and  often  men  would  say 
"That  horse  his  mettle  from  his  rider  takes; 
Proud  of  subjection,  noble  by  the  sway, 


A   LOVER'S  COMPLAINT.  l^ 

What  rounds,  what  bounds,  what  course,  what  stop  he 

makes  !" 

And  controversy  hence  a  question  takes,  no 

Whether  the  horse  by  him  became  his  deed, 
Or  he  his  manage  by  the  well-doing  steed. 

6  But  quickly  on  this  side  the  verdict  went : 

His  real  habitude  gave  life  and  grace 

To  appertainings  and  to  ornament, 

Accomplished  in  himself,  not  in  his  case. 

All  aids,  themselves  made  fairer  by  their  place, 

Came  for  additions;  yet  their  purpos'd  trim 

Piec'd  not  his  grace,  but  were  all  grac'd  by  him. 

'  So  on  the  tip  of  his  subduing  tongue  120 

All  kind  of  arguments  and  question  deep, 

All  replication  prompt  and  reason  strong, 

For  his  advantage  still  did  wake  and  sleep: 

To  make  the  weeper  laugh,  the  laugher  weep, 

He  had  the  dialect  and  different  skill, 

Catching  all  passions  in  his  craft  of  will; 

'That  he  did  in  the  general  bosom  reign 

Of  young,  of  old,  and  sexes  both  enchanted, 

To  dwell  with  him  in  thoughts,  or  to  remain 

In  personal  duty,  following  where  he  haunted  :  130 

Consents  bewitch'd,  ere  he  desire,  have  granted, 

And  dialogued  for  him  what  he  would  say, 

Ask'd  their  own  wills,  and  made  their  wills  obey. 

1  Many  there  were  that  did  his  picture  get, 

To  serve  their  eyes,  and  in  it  put  their  mind; 

Like  fools  that  in  the  imagination  set 

The  goodly  objects  which  abroad  they  find 

Of  lands  and  mansions,  theirs  in  thought  assigned, 

And  labouring  in  moe  pleasures  to  bestow  them 

Than  the  true  gouty  landlord  which  doth  owe  them :     MO 


I50  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

i  So  many  have,  that  never  touch'd  his  hand, 
Sweetly  suppos'd  them  mistress  of  his  heart. 
My  woeful  self,  that  did  in  freedom  stand, 
And  was  my  own  fee-simple,  not  in  part, 
What  with  his  art  in  youth,  and  youth  in  art, 
Threw  my  affections  in  his  charmed  power, 
Reserv'd  the  stalk  and  gave  him  all  my  flower. 

*  Yet  did  I  not,  as  some  my  equals  did, 
Demand  of  him,  nor  being  desired  yielded; 
Finding  myself  in  honour  so  forbid, 
Ayith  safest  distance  I  mine  honour  shielded: 
Experience  for  me  many  bulwarks  builded 
Of  proofs  new-bleeding,  which  remained  the  foil 
Of  this  false  jewel,  and  his  amorous  spoil. 

'  But,  ah,  who  ever  shunn'd  by  precedent 
The  destin'd  ill  she  must  herself  assay? 
Or  forc'd  examples,  'gainst  her  own  content, 
To  put  the  by-past  perils  in  her  way  ? 
Counsel  may  stop  awhile  what  will  not  stay ; 
For  when  we  rage,  advice  is  often  seen 
By  blunting  us  to  make  our  wits  more  keen. 

6  Nor  gives  it  satisfaction  to  our  blood, 
That  we  must  curb  it  upon  others'  proof; 
To  be  forbod  the  sweets  that  seem  so  good, 
For  fear  of  harms  that  preach  in  our  behoof. 
O  appetite,  from  judgment  stand  aloof! 
The  one  a  palate  hath  that  needs  will  taste, 
Though  Reason  weep,  and  cry  "It  is  thy  last/5 

'For  further  I  could  say  "This  man  's  untrue," 
And  knew  the  patterns  of  his  foul  beguiling, 
Heard  where  his  plants  in  others'  orchards  grew, 
Saw  how  deceits  were  gilded  in  his  smiling, 
Knew  vows  were  ever  brokers  to  defiling, 


A  LOVER'S  COMPLAIN7\  ,5l 

Thought  characters  and  words  merely  but  art, 
And  bastards  of  his  foul  adulterate  heart. 

4  And  long  upon  these  terms  I  held  my  city, 

Till  thus  he  gan  besiege  me :  "  Gentle  maid, 

Have  of  my  suffering  youth  some  feeling  pity, 

And  be  not  of  my  holy  vows  afraid : 

That 's  to  ye  sworn  to  none  was  ever  said ;  180 

For  feasts  of  love  I  have  been  calPd  unto, 

Till  now  did  ne:er  invite,  nor  never  woo. 

' "  All  my  offences  that  abroad  you  see 

Are  errors  of  the  blood,  none  of  the  mind  ; 

Love  made  them  not :  with  acture  they  may  be, 

Where  neither  party  is  nor  true  nor  kind. 

They  sought  their  shame  that  so  their  shame  did  find; 

And  so  much  less  of  shame  in  me  remains, 

By  how  much  of  me  their  reproach  contains. 

*  "Among  the  many  that  mine  eyes  have  seen,  190 

Not  one  whose  flame  my  heart  so  much  as  warm'd, 

Or  my  affection  put  to  the  smallest  teen, 

Or  any  of  my  leisures  ever  charm'd; 

Harm  have  I  done  to  them,  but  ne'er  was.harm'd  ; 

Kept  hearts  in  liveries,  but  mine  own  was  free, 

And  reign'd,  commanding  in  his  monarchy. 

'  "  Look  here,  what  tributes  wounded  fancies  sent  me, 

Of  paled  pearls  and  rubies  red  as  blood ; 

Figuring  that  they  their  passions  likewise  lent  me 

Of  grief  and  blushes,  aptly  understood  200 

In  bloodless  white  and  the  encrimson'd  mood  ; 

Effects  of  terror  and  dear  modesty, 

Encamp'd  in  hearts,  but  fighting  outwardly. 

'"And,  lo,  behold  these  talents  of  their  hair, 
With  twisted  metal  amorously  impleach'd, 
I  have  receiv'd  from  many  a  several  fair, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Their  kind  acceptance  weepingly  beseech'd, 
With  the  annexions  of  fair  gems  enrich'd, 
And  deep-brain'd  sonnets  that  did  amplify 
Each  stone's  dear  nature,  worth,  and  quality. 

•  '"The  diamond, — why,  't  was  beautiful  and  hard, 
Whereto  his  invis'd  properties  did  tend ; 
The  deep-green  emerald,  in  whose  fresh  regard 
Weak  sights  their  sickly  radiance  do  amend  ; 
The  heaven-hued  sapphire  and  the  opal  blend 
With  objects  manifold  :  each  several  stone, 
With  wit  well  blazon'd,  smil'd  or  made  some*  moan. 

1 "  Lo,  all  these  trophies  of  affections  hot, 
Of  pensiv'd  and  subdued  desires  the  tender, 
Nature  hath  charg'cl  me  that  I  hoard  them  not, 
But  yield  them  up  where  I  myself  must  render, 
That  is,  to  you,  my  origin  and  ender ; 
For  these,  of  force,  must  your  oblations  be, 
Since,  I  their  altar,  you  enpatron  me. 

'  "  O,  then,  advance  of  yours  that  phraseless  hand, 
Whose  white  weighs  down  the  airy  scale  of  praise; 
Take  all  these  similes  to  your  own  command, 
Hallow'd  with  sighs  that  burning  lungs  did  raise  : 
What  me  your  minister,  for  you  obeys, 
Works  under  you;  and  to  your  audit  comes 
Their  distract  parcels  in  combined  sums. 

' "  Lo,  this  device  was  sent  me  from  a  nun, 
A  sister  sanctified,  of  holiest  note, 
Which  late  her  noble  suit  in  court  did  shun, 
Whose  rarest  havings  made  the  blossoms  dote  ; 
For  she  was  sought  by  spirits  of  richest  coat, 
But  kept  cold  distance,  and  did  thence  remove, 
To  spend  her  living  in  eternal  love, 


A  LOVER'S  COMPLAINT.  ^^ 

' "  But,  O  my  sweet,  what  labour  is  't  to  leave 

The  thing  we  have  not,  mastering  what  not  strives,     240 

Paling  the  place  which  did  no  form  receive, 

Playing  patient  sports  in  unconstrained  gyves? 

She  that  her  fame  so  to  herself  contrives, 

The  scars  of  battle  scapeth  by  the  flight, 

And  makes  her  absence  valiant,  not  her  might. 

7  O 

'  "  O,  pardon  me,  in  that  my  boast  is  true ; 

The  accident  which  brought  me  to  her  eye 

Upon  the  moment  did  her  force  subdue, 

And  now  she  would  the  caged  cloister  fly: 

Religious  love  put  out  Religion's  eye ;  250 

Not  to  be  tempted,  would  she  be  immtir'd, 

And  now,  to  tempt,  all  liberty  procur'd. 

'"  How  mighty  then  you  are,  O,  hear  me  tell ! 

The  broken  bosoms  that  to  me  belong 

Have  emptied  all  their  fountains  in  my  well, 

And  mine  I  pour  your  ocean  all  among; 

I  strong  o'er  them,  and  you  o'er  me  being  strong, 

Must  for  your  victory  us  all  congest, 

As  compound  love  to  physic  your  cold  breast. 

' "  My  parts  had  power  to  charm  a  sacred  nun,  260 

Who,  disciplin'd,  ay,  dieted  in  grace, 

Believ'd  her  eyes  when  they  to  assail  begun, 

All  vows  and  consecrations  giving  place; 

O  most  potential  love  !  vow,  bond,  nor  space, 

In  thee  hath  neither  sting,  knot,  nor  confine, 

For  thou  art  all,  and  all  things  else  are  thine. 

'  "  When  thou  impressest,  what  are  precepts  worth 
Of  stale  example?     When  thou  wilt  inflame, 
How  coldly  those  impediments  stand  forth 
Of  wealth,  of  filial  fear,  law,  kindred,  fame  !  270 

Love's  arms  are  proot  'gainst  rule,  'gainst  sense,  'gainst 
shame, 


I54  SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

And  sweetens,  in  the  suffering  pangs  it  bears, 
The  aloes  of  all  forces,  shocks,  and  fears. 

'"  Now  all  these  hearts  that  do  on  mine  depend, 
Feeling  it  break,  with  bleeding  groans  they  pine  ; 
And  supplicant  their  sighs  to  you  extend, 
To  leave  the  battery  that  you  make  'gainst  mine, 
Lending  soft  audience  to  my  sweet  design, 
And  credent  soul  to  that  strong-bonded  oath 
That  shall  prefer  and  undertake  my  troth." 

'This  said,  his  watery  eyes  he  did  dismount, 
Whose  sights  till  then  were  levell'd  on  my  face; 
Each  cheek  a  river  running  from  a  fount 
With  brinish  current  downward  flow'd  apace  : 
O,  how  the  channel  to  the  stream  gave  grace  ! 
Who  glaz'd  with  crystal  gate  the  glowing  roses 
That  flame  through  water  which  their  hue  encloses. 

4  O  father,  what  a  hell  of  witchcraft  lies 

In  the  small  orb  of  one  particular  tear! 

But  with  the  inundation  of  the  eyes  290 

What  rocky  heart  to  water  will  not  wear? 

What  breast  so  cold  that  is  not  warmed  here  ? 

O  cleft  effect !  cold  modesty,  hot  wrath, 

Both  fire  from  hence  and  chill  extincture  hath. 

*  For,  lo,  his  passion,  but  an  art  of  craft, 
Even  there  resolv'd  my  reason  into  tears  ; 
There  my  white  stole  of  chastity  I  daff'd, 
Shook  off  my  sober  guards  and  civil  fears  ; 
Appear  to  him,  as  he  to  me  appears, 

All  melting;  though  our  drops  this  difference  bore,    300 
His  poison'd  me,  and  mine  did  him  restore. 

*  In  him  a  plenitude  of  subtle  matter, 
Applied  to  cautels,  all  strange  forms  receives, 
Of  burning  blushes,  or  of  weeping  water, 


A  LOVER'S  COMPLAINT.  !55 

Or  swooning  paleness ;  and  he  takes  and  leaves, 
In  either's  aptness,  as  it  best  deceives, 
To  blush  at  speeches  rank,  to  weep  at  woes, 
Or  to  turn  white  and  swoon  at  tragic  shows  : 

'  That  not  a  heart  which  in  his  level  came 

Could  scape  the  hail  of  his  all-hurting  aim,  3«> 

Showing  fair  nature  is  both  kind  and  tame, 

And,  veil'd  in  them,  did  win  whom  he  would  maim  : 

Against  the  thing  he  sought  he  would  exclaim; 

When  he  most  burn'd  in  heart-wish'd  luxury, 

He  preach'd  pure  maid  and  prais'd  cold  chastity. 

1  Thus  merely  with  the  garment  of  a  Grace 

The  naked  and  concealed  fiend  he  cover'd ; 

That  the  unexperient  gave  the  tempter  place, 

Which  like  a  cherubin  above  them  hover'd. 

Who,  young  and  simple,  would  not  be  so  lover'd  ?        320 

Ay  me  !  I  fell ;  and  yet  do  question  make 

What  I  should  do  again  for  such  a  sake. 

'O,  that  infected  moisture  of  his  eye, 
O,  that  false  fire  which  in  his  cheek  so  glow'd, 
O,  that  forc'd  thunder  from  his  heart  did  fly, 
O,  that  sad  breath  his  spongy  lungs  bestow'd, 
O,  all  that  borrow'd  motion  seeming  owed, 
Would  yet  again  betray  the  fore-betray'd, 
And  new  pervert  a  reconciled  maid !' 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM. 


SWEET  Cytherea,  sitting  by  a  brook 

With  young  Adonis,  lovely,  fresh,  and  green, 

Did  court  the  lad  with  many  a  lovely  look, 

Such  looks  as  none  could  look  but  beauty's  queen. 

She  told  him  stories  to  delight  his  ear; 

She  show'd  him  favours  to  allure  his  eye ; 

To  win  his  heart,  she  touch'd  him  here  and  there,- 

Touches  so  soft  still  conquer  chastity. 

But  whether  unripe  years  did  want  conceit, 

Or  he  refus'd  to  take  her  figur'd  proffer, 


THE  PASSIONATE   PILGRIM.  I5 

The  tender  nibbler  would  not  touch  the  bait, 
But  smile  and  jest  at  every  gentle  offer : 

Then  fell  she  on  her  back,  fair  queen,  and  toward ; 

He  rose  and  ran  away — ah,  fool  too  fro  ward  ! 

II. 

Scarce  had  the  sun  dried  up  the  dewy  morn, 
And  scarce  the  herd  gone  to  the  hedge  for  shade, 
When  Cytherea,  all  in  love  forlorn, 
A  longing  tarriance  for  Adonis  made 
Under  an  osier  growing  by  a  brook, 
A  brook  where  Adon  us'd  to  cool  his  spleen : 
Hot  was  the  day ;  she  hotter  that  did  look 
For  his  approach,  that  often  there  had  been. 
Anon  he  comes,  and  throws  his  mantle  by, 
And  stood  stark  naked  on  the  brook's  green  brim  ; 
The  sun  look'd  on  the  world  with  glorious  eye, 
Yet  not  so  wistly  as  this  queen  on  him. 

He,  spying  her,  bounc'd  in,  whereas  he  stood ; 

'  O  Jove,'  quoth  she, '  why  was  not  I  a  flood  !' 

III. 

Fair  was  the  morn  when  the  fair  queen  of  love, 

=*  #  =*  *  *  *  * 

Paler  for  sorrow  than  her  milk-white  dove, 
For  Adon's  sake,  a  youngster  proud  and  wild. 
Her  stand  she  takes  upon  a  steep-up  hill: 
Anon  Adonis  comes  with  horn  and  hounds  ; 
She,  silly  queen,  with  more  than  love's  good  will, 
Forbade  the  boy  he  should  not  pass  those  grounds. 
'  Once,'  quoth  she,  *  did  I  see  a  fair  sweet  youth 
Here  in  these  brakes  deep-wounded  with  a  boar, 
Deep  in  the  thigh,  a  spectacle  of  ruth  ! 
See,  in  my  thigh,'  quoth  she, '  here  was  the  sore.' 
She  showed  hers;  he  saw  more  wounds  than  one, 
And  blushing  fled,  and  left  her  all  alone. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

IV. 

Fair  is  my  love,  but  not  so  fair  as  fickle ; 

Mild  as  a  dove,  but  neither  true  nor  trusty  ; 

Brighter  than  glass,  and  yet,  as  glass  is,  brittle  ; 

Softer  than  wax,  and  yet,  as  iron,  rusty  : 
A  lily  pale,  with  damask  dye  to  grace  her, 
None  fairer,  nor  none  falser  to  deface  her. 

Her  lips  to  mine  how  often  hath  she  joined, 
Between  each  kiss  her  oaths  of  true  love  swearing ! 
How  many  tales  to  please  me  hath  she  coined, 
Dreading  my  love,  the  loss  thereof  still  fearing  !  u 

Yet  in  the  midst  of  all  her  pure  pretestings, 
Her  faith,  her  oaths,  her  tears,  and  all  were  jestings. 

She  burn'd  with  love,  as  straw  with  fire  flameth ; 
She  burn'd  out  love,  as  soon  as  straw  out-burneth  ; 
She  fram'd  the  love,  and  yet  she  foil'd  the  framing; 
She  bade  love  last,  and  yet  she  fell  a-turning. 

Was  this  a  lover,  or  a  lecher  whether  ? 

Bad  in  the  best,  though  excellent  in  neither. 

V. 

Sweet  rose,  fair  flower,  untimely  pluck'd,  soon  vaded, 

Pluck'd  in  the  bud,  and  vaded  in  the  spring  ! 

Bright  orient  pearl,  alack,  too  timely  shaded ! 

Fair  creature,  kill'd  too  soon  by  death's  sharp  sting ! 
Like  a  green  plum  that  hangs  upon  a  tree, 
And  falls,  through  wind,  before  the  fall  should  be. 

I  weep  for  thee,  and  yet  no  cause  I  have  ; 

For  why,  thou  left'st  me  nothing  in  thy  will : 

And  yet  thou  lefi'st  me  more  than  I  did  crave  ; 

For  why,  I  craved  nothing  of  thee  still :  i 

O  yes,  dear  friend,  I  pardon  crave  of  thee, 
Thy  discontent  thou  didst  bequeath  to  me. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  l$ 

VI. 

Crabbed  age  and  youth  cannot  live  together : 
Youth  is  full  of  pleasance,  age  is  full  of  care; 
Youth  like  summer  morn,  age  like  winter  weather ; 
Youth  like  summer  brave,  age  like  winter  bare. 
Youth  is  full  of  sport,  age's  breath  is  short; 

Youth  is  nimble,  age  is  lame ; 
Youth  is  hot  and  bold,  age  is  weak  and  cold ; 

Youth  is  wild,  and  age  is  tame. 
Age,  I  do  abhor  thee  ;  youth,  I  do  adore  thee  ; 

O,  my  love,  my  love  is  young !  1 

Age,  I  do  defy  thee :  O,  sweet  shepherd,  hie  thee, 

For  methinks  thou  stay'st  too  long. 

VIL 

Beauty  is  but  a  vain  and  doubtful  good ; 

A  shining  gloss  that  vadeth  suddenly; 

A  flower  that  dies  when  first  it  gins  to  bud  ; 

A  brittle  glass  that's  broken  presently: 
A  doubtful  good,  a  gloss,  a  glass,  a  flower, 
Lost,  vaded,  broken,  dead  within  an  hour. 

And  as  goods  lost  are  seld  or  never  found, 
As  vaded  gloss  no  rubbing  will  refresh, 
As  flowers  dead  lie  withered  on  the  ground, 
As  broken  glass  no  cement  can  redress,  1 

So  beauty  blemish'd  once  's  for  ever  lost, 
In  spite  of  physic,  painting,  pain,  and  cost. 

VIII. 

Good  night,  good  rest.     Ah,  neither  be  my  share; 

She  bade  good  night  that  kept  my  rest  away, 

And  daff'd  me  to  a  cabin  hang'd  with  care, 

To  descant  on  the  doubts  of  my  decay. 

1  Farewell/  quoth  she, '  and  come  again  to-morrow :' 
Fare  well  I  could  not,  for  I  supp'd  with  sorrow. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Yet  at  rny  parting  sweetly  did  she  smile, 

In  scorn  or  friendship,  nill  I  construe  whether; 

T  may  be,  she  joy'd  to  jest  at  my  exile, 

'T  may  be,  again  to  make  me  wander  thither:  TO 

4  Wander,'  a  word  for  shadows  like  myself, 
As  take  the  pain,  but  cannot  pluck  the  pelf. 

Lord,  how  mine  eyes  throw  gazes  to  the  east ! 

My  heart  doth  charge  the  watch;  the  morning  rise 

Doth  cite  each  moving  sense  from  idle  rest. 

Xot  daring  trust  the  office  of  mine  eyes, 

While  Philomela  sits  and  sings,  I  sit  and  mark, 
And  wish  her  lays  were  tuned  like  the  lark ; 

For  she  doth  welcome  daylight  with  her  ditty, 

And  drives  away  dark  dismal-dreaming  night:  20 

The  night  so  pack'd,  I  post  unto  my  pretty; 

Heart  hath 'his  hope,  and  eyes  their  wished  sight:, 

Sorrow  chang'd  to  solace,  solace  mix'd  with  sorrow ; 

For  why,  she  sigh'd  and  bade  me  come  to-morrow. 

VVere  I  with  her,  the  night  would  post  too  soon ; 
But  now  are  minutes  added  to  the  hours; 
To  spite  me  now,  each  minute  seems  a  moon-, 
Yet  not  for  me  shine  sun  to  succour  flowers! 

Pack  night,  peep  day;  good  day,  of  night  now  bor- 
row ; 

Short,  night,  to-night,  and  length  thyself  to-morrow.  30 

IX. 

Whenas  thine  eye  hath  chose  the  dame, 
And  stall'd  the  deer  that  thou  shouldst  strike, 
Let  reason  rule  things  worthy  blame, 
As  well  as  partial  fancy  like ; 

Take  counsel  of  some  wiser  head, 

Neither  too  young  nor  yet  unwed. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  Igx 

And  when  thou  com'st  thy  tale  to  tell. 
Smooth  not  thy  tongue  with  filed  talk, 
Lest  she  some  subtle  practice  smell, — 
A  cripple  soon  can  find  a  halt ; —  I0 

But  plainly  say  thou  lov'st  her  well, 

And  set  her  person  forth  to  sell. 

What  though  her  frowning  brows  be  bent, 
Her  cloudy  looks  will  clear  ere  night ; 
And  then  too  late  she  will  repent 
That  thus  dissembled  her  delight, 

And  twice  desire,  ere  it  be  day, 

That  which  with  scorn  she  put  away. 

What  though  she  strive  to  try  her  strength, 

And  ban  and  brawl,  and  say  thee  nay,  20 

Her  feeble  force  will  yield  at  length, 

When  craft  hath  taught  her  thus  to  say, 

1  Had  women  been  so  strong  as  men, 

In  faith,  you  had  not  had  it  then.' 

And  to  her  will  frame  all  thy  ways ; 
Spare  not  to  spend,  and  chiefly  there 
Where  thy  desert  may  merit  praise, 
By  ringing  in  thy  lady's  ear : 

The  strongest  castle,  tower,  and  town, 

The  golden  bullet  beats  it  down.  30 

Serve  always  with  assured  trust, 
And  in  thy  suit  be  humble-true  \ 
Unless  thy  lady  prove  unjust, 
Press  never  thou  to  choose  anew: 

When  time  shall  serve,  be  thou  not  slack 

To  proffer,  though  she  put  thee  back. 

The  wiles  and  guiles  that  women  work, 
Dissembled  with  an  outward  show, 
The  tricks  and  toys  that  in  them  lurk, 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

The  cock  that  treads  them  shall  not  know.  40 

Have  you  not  heard  it  said  full  oft, 
A  woman's  nay  doth  stand  for  nought? 

Think  women  still  to  strive  with  men, 
To  sin  and  never  for  to  saint : 
Here  is  no  heaven  ;  be  holy  then, 
When  time  with  age  shall  thee  attaint. 

Were  kisses  all  the  joys  in  bed, 

One  woman  would  another  wed. 

But,  soft!  enough — too  much,  I  fear — 

Lest  that  my  mistress  hear  my  song;  50 

She  will  not  stick  to  round  me  i'  the  ear, 

To  teach  my  tongue  to  be  so  long : 

Yet  will  she  blush,  here  be  it  said, 

To  hear  her  secrets  so  bewray'd. 


THE   PHGENIX  AND  THE  TURTLE. 

LET  the  bird  of  loudest  lay, 

On  the  sole  Arabian  tree, 

Herald  sad  and  trumpet  be, 

To  whose  sound  chaste  wings  obey. 

But  thou  shrieking  harbinger, 
Foul  precurrer  of  the  fiend, 
Augur  of  the  fever's  end, 
To  this  troop  come  thou  not  near ! 

From  this  session  interdict 
Every  fowl  of  tyrant  wing, 
Save  the  eagle,  feather'd  king  ; 
Keep  the  obsequy  so  strict. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS. 

Let  the  priest  in  surplice  white, 
That  defunctive  music  can, 
Be  the  death-divining  swan, 
Lest  the  requiem  lack  his  right. 

And  thou  treble-dated  crow, 
That  thy  sable  gender  mak'st 
With  the  breath  thou  giv'st  and  tak'st, 
'Mongst  our  mourners  shalt  thou  go. 

Here  the  anthem  doth  commence : 
Love  and  constancy  is  dead  ; 
Phoenix  and  the  turtle  fled 
In  a  mutual  flame  from  hence. 

So  they  lov'd,  as  love  in  twain 
Had  the  essence  but  in  one ; 
Two  distincts,  division  none: 
Number  there  in  love  was  slain. 

Hearts  remote,  yet  not  asunder ; 
Distance,  and  no  space  was  seen 
Twixt  the  turtle  and  his  queen  : 
But  in  them  it  were  a  wonder. 

So  between  them  love  did  shine 
That  the  turtle  saw  his  right 
Flaming  in  the  phcenix'  sight ; 
Either  was  the  other's  mine. 

Property  was  thus  appall'd, 
That  the  self  was  not  the  same  ; 
Single  nature's  double  name 
Neither  two  nor  one  was  call'd. 

Reason,  in  itself  confounded, 
Saw  division  grow  together, 
To  themselves  yet  either  neither. 
Simple  were  so  well  compounded, 


THE   PHCENIX  AND    THE    TURTLE.  ^5 

That  it  cried,  How  true  a  twain 
Seemeth  this  concordant  one! 
Love  hath  reason,  reason  none, 
If  what  parts  can  so  remain. 

Whereupon  it  made  this  threne 

To  the  phoenix  and  the  dove,  5u 

Co-supremes  and  stars  of  love, 

As  chorus  to  their  tragic  scene. 

THRENOS. 

Beauty,  truth,  and  rarity, 
Grace  in  all  simplicity, 
Here  enclos'd  in  cinders  lie. 

Death  is  now  the  phoenix'  nest ; 
And  the  turtle's  loyal  breast 
To  eternity  doth  rest, 

Leaving  no  posterity: 

'T  was  not  their  infirmity,  60 

It  was  married  chastity. 

Truth  may  seem, but  cannot  be; 
Beauty  brag,  but  't  is  not  she  ; 
Truth  and  beauty  buried  be. 

To  this  urn  let  those  repair 
That  are  either  true  or  fair ; 
For  these  dead  birds  sigh  a  prayer. 


Good  night,  good  rest  (P.  P.  8.  i>. 


NOTES. 


ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  THE  NOTES. 

Abbott  (or  Gr.),  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (third  edition). 
A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon. 

A.  V.,  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  (1611). 

B.  and  F.,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
B.  J.,  Ben  Jonson. 

Camb.  ed.,  "Cambridge  edition"  of  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Clark  and  Wright. 
.Cf.  (confer),  compare. 
Coll.,  Collier  (second  edition;. 
D.,  Dyce  (second  edition). 

Et  al.,  and  other  eds.  (that  v^foUotoing  or  later  ones). 
H.,  Hudson  ("Harvard"  edition). 
Halliwell,  J.  O.  Halliwell  (folio  ed.  of  Shakespeare). 
Id.  (idem},  the  same. 
K.,  Knight  (second  edition). 

Nares,  Glossary,  edited  by  Halliwell  and  Wright  (London,  1859). 
Prol.,  Prologue. 
S.,  Shakespeare. 

Schmidt,  A.  Schmidt's  Shakespeare-Lexicon  (Berlin,  1874). 
Sr.,  Singer. 
St.,  Staunton. 
Theo.,  Theobald. 
W.,  R.  Grant  White. 

Walker,  Wm.  Sidney  Walker's  Critical  Examination  of  the  Text  of  Shakespeare 
(London,  1860). 
Warb.,  Warburton. 

Wb.,  Webster's  Dictionary  (revised  quarto  edition  of  1879). 
Wore.,  Worcester's  Dictionary  (quarto  edition). 

The  abbreviations  of  the  names  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  will  be  readily  understood  ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanus,  3  Hen.  VI.  for  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  ;  V.  and  A .  to  Venus 
and  Adonis i  L,.  C.  to  Lover's  Complaint  ',  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

When  the  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  play  is  followed  by  a  reference  to  page, 
Rolfe's  edition  of  the  play  is  meant. 

The  numbers  of  the  lines  (except  for  The  Passionate  Pilgrim}  are  those  of  the 
"  Globe  "  ed. 


NOTES. 


THE    FLIGHT    OF    TARQUIN. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS. 

THE  EARLY  EDITIONS.— Richard  Field,  the  printer  of  the  first  ed. 
(see  p.  9  above)  was  a  native  of  Stratford,  and  the  son  of  the  Henry 
Field  whose  goods  John  Shakespeare  was  employed  to  value  in  1592. 
He  adopted  the  device  of  an  anchor,  with  the  motto  "  Anchora  spei," 
because  they  had  been  used  by  his  father-in-law,  Thomas  Vautrollier,  a 
celebrated  a'nd  learned  printer,  who  resided  in  Blackfriars,  and  to  whose 
business,  at  his  death  in  1589,  Field  succeeded. 

The  poem  was  licens^  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  (Whitgift), 
and  entered  in  the  Stationers'  Register,  April  18,  1593. 

The  second  edition,  likewise  printed  and  published  by  Field,  must 
have  been  brought  out  early  in  1594,  as  the  transfer  of  the  copyright 


I70  NOTES. 

from  Field  to  Harrison  is  recorded  as  having  taken  place  on  the  25th  of 
June  in  that  year. 

The  third  edition  was  printed  by  Field,  though  published  by  Harrison, 
and  must  have  appeared  before  June,  1596,  when  Harrison  transferred 
the  copyright  to  Leake. 

It  is  probable  that  there  were  editions  between  this  of  1596  and  that 
of  1599.  The  poem  had  evidently  been  very  popular,  and  it  would  be 
strange  if  Leake  did  not  issue  an  edition  until  three  years  after  he  had 
secured  the  copyright.  When  we  consider  that  of  the  1st,  4th,  5th,  and 
loth*  eds.  only  single  copies  have  come  down  to  our  day,  of  the  3d,  6th, 
and  9th,  only  two  copies  each,  and  of  the  2d  only  three  copies,  it  is  not 
unreasonable  to  suppose  that  of  some  editions  not  a  single  copy  has  sur- 
vived. It  is  also  probable  that  there  were  editions  between  1602  and 
1627,  when  the  poem  was  reprinted  in  Edinburgh. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  the  book  may  have  fallen  under  the  ban  of 
the  Privy  Council.  A  decree  of  the  Star  Chamber,  dated  June  23,  1585, 
gave  unlimited  power  to  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  to  seize  and  de- 
stroy whatever  books  they  thought  proper.  A  notable  instance  of  this 
interference  with  books  already  printed  occurred  in  1599,  at  Stationers' 
Hall,  when  a  number  .of  objectionable  works  were  burned,  and  special 
admonitions  given  then  and  there  to  the  printers,  some  of  the  most  em- 
inent of  the  time,  and  among  them  our  friend  Richard  Field  (Edmonds). 

That  the  poem  was  considered  somewhat  objectionable  even  in  that 
day  is  evident  from  certain  contemporaneous  references  to  it.  Halliwell 
(Outlines,  etc.,  p.  221)  quotes  A  Mad  World  my  Masters,  1608  :  "  I  have 
convay'd  away  all  her  wanton  pamphlets,  as  Hero  and  Leander,  Venus 
and  Adonis  ;"  and  Sir  John  Davies,  who  in  his  Papers  Complaint  (found 
in  his  Scoiirge  of  Folly,  1610)  makes  "Paper"  admit  the  superlative  ex- 
cellence of  Shakespeare's  poem,  but  at  the  same  time  censure  its  being 
"  attired  in  such  bawdy  geare."  It  is  also  stated  that  "  the  coyest  dames 
in  private  read  it  for  their  closset-games."  In  The  Dumbe  Knight,  1608, 
the  lawyer's  clerk  refers  to  it  as  "maides  philosophic;"  and  the  stanza 
beginning  with  line  229  is  quoted  both  in  that  play  and  in  Heywood's 
Fay  re  Mayde  of  the  Exchange,  1607. 

THE  DEDICATION. — For  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  see  p.  36,  foot- 
note, above.  For  a  much  fuller  account,  with  the  many  poetical  trib- 
utes paid  him,  see  the  Var.  of  1821,  vol.  xx.  pp.  427-468. 

8.  Ear.     Plough,  till.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  192. 

10.  Your  honour.     Your  lordship.     Cf.  T.  of  A.  p.  137. 

VENUS  AND  ADONIS.— 3.  Rose-cheetfd  Adonis.  Marlowe  applies  the 
same  epithet  to  the  youth  in  his  Hero  and  Leander: 

"  The  men  of  wealthy  Sestos  eveiy  year, 
For  his  sake  whom  their  goddess  held  so  dear, 
Rose-cheek' d  Adonis,  kept  a  solemn  feast." 

*  This  is  true  of  both  the  ed.  known  to  have  been  published  in  1630  and  the  one  in 
the  Bodleian  ascribed  to  that  year. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  17l 

6.  Gins.     H.  and  some  others  print  "'gins  ;"  but  see  Macb.  p.  153. 

9.  Stain  to  all  nymphs.     That  is,  by  eclipsing  them.     Cf.  I  hen.  VI. 
iv.  I.  45. 

10.  Doves  or  roses.     Fanner  conjectures  "and"  for  or ;  but  the  latter 
is  doubtless  what  S.  wrote. 

11.  With  herself  at  strife.     Cf.  291  below.     See  also  T.  of  A.  p.  135, 
note  on  39. 

1 6.  Honey.     For  the  adjective  use,  cf.  452  and  538  below. 

19.  Satiety.     The  first  four  eds.  *  and  the  loth  have  "sacietie." 

20.  Famish  them,  etc.     Cf.  A.  and  C.  ii.  2.  241  : 

"Other  women  cloy 

The  appetites  they  feed ;  but  she  makes  hungry 
Where  most  she  satisfies." 

25.  His  sweating  palm.     Steevens  quotes  A.  arid  C.  i.  2.  53  :  "Nay,  if 
an  oily  palm  be  not  a  fruitful  prognostication,"  etc.     See  also  143  below, 
and  Oth.  iii.  4.  36  fol. 

26.  Pith.     Vigour.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  p.  162, 

32.  Her  other.     The  Jth  and  later  eds.  have  "the  other." 
40.  Prove.     Try  ;  as  in  608  below. 

53.  Miss.     Misbehaviour.     Malone  and  others  print  "  'miss." 

54.  Murthers.     The  ist,  2d,  3d,  and  4th  eds.  have  "murthers,"  the 
others  "smothers." 

45.  Empty  eagle.     We  have  the  same  expression  in  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  i. 
and  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  i.  268. 
56.  Tires.     Tears  and  feeds  ravenously  upon.     Cf.  Cymb.  p.  195. 

61.  Forced  to  content.     "  Forced  to  content  himself  in  a  situation  from 
which  he  had  no  means  of  escaping"  (Steevens). 

62.  BreatJieth.    The  reading  of  the  first  three  eds. ;  "  breathing  "  in  the 
4th  and  the  rest. 

66.  Such  distilling.     Walker  would  read  "such-distilling." 

71.  Rank.  Exuberant,  high.  Cf.  the  use  of  the  noun  in  K.  John,  v.  4.  54  : 

"And,  like  a  bated  and  retired  flood, 
Leaving  our  rankness  and  irregular  course, 
Stoop  low  within  those  bounds  we  have  o'erlook'd." 

76.  Ashy-pale.  Malone  at  first  made  this  refer  to  Adonis,  but  subse- 
quently saw  that  it  goes  with  anger. 

78.  More.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  332  :  "  A  more  rejoicing,"  etc.     Gr.  17. 

82.  Take  truce.  Make  peace.  Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  i.  17  :  "  With  my  vex'd 
spirits  I  cannot  take  a  truce,"  etc.  The  4th  ed.  has  "  takes  truce." 

*  The  4th  of  the  early  eds.,  or  that  of  1599  (see  p.  10  above),  is  not  collated  in  the 
Camb.  ed.  or  any  other  ed.  known  to  us.  We  have  had  the  opportunity  of  consulting 
the  fac-simile  reprint  in  the  Harvard  library,  and  have  noted  all  the  variations  that  seem 
worth  mentioning  in  an  edition  like  this.  For  misprints  not  found  in  any  other  early 


ed.  (or  at  least  not  recorded  in  the  Camb.  ed.)  see  on  82,  313,  350,  365,  506,  655,  700, 
704,  754,  868,  901,  969,  1002,  1073,  1136,  1143,  1168,  etc.  Of  course  the  5th  ed.  of  our 
numbering  is  the  4th  of  the  Camb.  ed.,  our  6th  is  their  sth,  and  so  on.  The  dated  ed. 


of  1630  (see  p.  ii  above)  is  not  collated  in  any  ed.,  and  has  not  been  reprinted.  We 
have  therefore  omitted  it  in  the  numbering  of  the  early  eds.  For  the  readings  of  all 
these  eds.  except  the  $th  we  have  depended  on  the  Camb.  ed. 


I72  NOTES. 

90.  Winks.     Shuts  his  eyes  ;  as  in  121  below. 

91.  Passenger.     Wayfarer;  the  only  sense  in  S.     Cf.  7\  G.  of  V.  iv.  I. 
I,  72,  v.  4.  15,  etc. 

94.  Yet  her.     The  reading  of  the  first  four  eds. ;  the  rest  have  "  Yet  in." 
97.  I  have  been  woo'd,  etc.     For  other  allusions  to  the  loves  of  Mars 
and  Venus,  see  Temp.  iv.  I.  98,  A.  and  C.  i.  5.  18,  etc. 

106.  To  toy.    All  the  early  eds.,  except  the  ist  and  2d,  have  "  To  coy." 
109.  He  that  overruled.     For  he  — \\irn,  see  Gr.  207. 

1 18.  ///  the  ground.     That  is,  on  it.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  85,  etc. 

119.  There.     Changed  to  "where  "  in  the  4th  and  later  eds. 

123.  There  are.     The  reading  of  the  ist  ed. ;  "there  be"  in  the  rest, 

except  the  loth,  which  has  "they  be." 

126.  Nor  know  not.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  read  "  nor  know  they." 
\^.  Hard-favour" d.    Hard-featured,  ill-looking  ;  as  in  931  below.    The 

hyphen  in  wrinkled-old  is  due  to  Malone. 

134.  Ill-mtrtur'd.     Ill-bred  ;  used  again  in  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  2.  42  :  "  Pre- 
sumptuous dame,  ill-nurtur'd  Eleanor,"  etc. 

135.  O^er-worn.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  \.  i.  81  :  "The  jealous,  o'er-worn  wid- 
ow," etc.     In  866  below,  the  word  is  used  of  time  =spent. 

140.  Grey.  Explained  by  Malone,  H.,  and  others  as  —  blue ;  but  see 
R.  and  J.  p.  172. 

142.  Plump.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  plumbe  ;"  the  5th,  6th,  7th,  8th,  and 
loth  (according  to  the  Camb.  ed.)  have  "plum." 

143.  Moist  hand.     See  on  25  above. 

148.  No  footing  seen.     Malone  quotes  Temp.  v.  I.  34  : 

"  And  ye  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  feet 
Do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune, ':  etc. 

149.  Compact  of  fire.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  8  :  "  of  imagination  all  com- 
pact;" A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  5  :  "compact  of  jars,"  etc. 

150.  Not  gross  to  sink,  etc.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  52  :  "Let  Love,  being 
light,  be  drowned  if  she  sink ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  128. 

152.  These.     Changed  to  "the"  in  the  5th  and  following  eds. 

153.  Doves.     Cf.  Temp.  iv.  i.  94,  where  Venus  is  referred  to  as  "dove- 
drawn."     See  also  1190  below,  and  R.  and  J.  p.  177. 

160.  Complain  on.     The  3d  and  subsequent  eds.  have  "  complain  of." 
See  Gr.  181,  and  cf.  544  below. 

161.  Narcissus.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  265  and  A.  and  C.  ii.  5.  96. 

1 68.  'To  themselves.  For  themselves  alone,  "  without  producing  fruit  or 
benefiting  mankind"  (Malone).  Cf.  1180  below. 

Wast.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "  wert." 

177.  l^itan.  The  sun  ;  as  in  T.  and  C.  v.  10.  25,  R.  and  J.  ii.  3.  4, 
Cymb.  iii.  4.  166,  etc. 

Tired 'is  explained  by  Boswell  as  ^attired  ;  and  Schmidt  favours  that 
explanation.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  131  :  "  the  tired  horse  ;"  and  see  our  ed. 
p.  147.  Coll.  prints  "  'tired." 

181.  Upright.     Spirit;  as  in  R.ofL.  121.     Cf.  Gr.  463. 

192.  Tears.     The  rhyme  was  not  so  bad  in  the  time  of  S.  as  now. 

193.  Shines  but  warm.     "Affords  only  a  natural  and  genial  heat;  it 
warms  but  it  does  not  burn  "  (Malone). 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  I73 

199.  Obdurate.  Accented  on  the  second  syllable,  as  elsewhere  in  S 
Cf.  R.  of  L.  429,  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  8,  etc. 

203.  Hard.     The  reading  of  the  ist  ed. ;  "bad"  in  all  the  rest. 

204.  Unkind.     Leaving  none  of  her  kind^  or  race  ;  childless.     Malone 
explains  it  as  "unnatural."     Cf.  Lear,  p.  176. 

205.  Contemn  me  this.     "Contemptuously  refuse  this  favour"  (Ma- 
lone).     The  loth  ed.  has  "  thus  "  for  this,  and  Steevens  was  inclined  to 
that  reading.     "  Thus  and  kiss"  he  says,  "correspond  in  sound  as  well 
as  unlikely  and  quickly,  adder  and  shudder,  which  we  meet  with  after- 
wards." 

211.  Lifeless.  The  early  eels,  have  "  liuelesse,"  except  the  4th,  which 
has  "  liueles." 

222.  Intendments.  Intentions.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  p.  139.  S.  uses  the  word 
four  times,  intention  only  twice. 

229.  Fondling.     Darling  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

230.  Pale.     Enclosure  ;  as  in  C.  of  E.  ii.  i.  100,  etc. 

231.  A  park.     The  3d  and  following  eds.  have  "the  parke." 
242.  That.     So  that.     Gr.  283.     Cf.  599,  830,  and  1140  below. 

247.  These  round.    Changed  in  the  5th  and  later  eds.  to  "  those  round." 

257.  Remorse.     Pity,  tenderness.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  p.  221,  note  on  210. 

272.  Compassed.  Curved,  arched.  In  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  120,  "compassed 
window  "  =  bow-window,  and  in  T.  ofS.  iv.  3.  140,  "compassed  cape  "  — 
round  cape. 

Stand  is  the  reading  of  the  first  four  eds. ;  changed  in  the  later  ones  to 
"  stands."  Mane  "  as  composed  of  many  hairs  "  (Malone)  is  here  used 
as  a  plural. 

275.  Scornfully  glisters.  Some  editors  follow  Sewell  in  transposing 
these  words.  On  glisters,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  145. 

277.  Told.     Counted ;  as  in  520  below.     Cf.  Temp.  p.  123. 

279.  Leaps.  Malone  infers  from  the  rhyme  that  the  word  was  pro- 
nounced leps,  as  it  still  is  in  Ireland ;  but  it  is  hardly  safe  to  draw  an 
inference  from  a  single  rhyme.  In  Sonn.  128.  5,  we  have  leap  rhymed 
with  reap. 

281.  This  I  do.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "thus  I  do." 

295.  Round-hoof ''d,  etc.     See  p.  32  above. 

296.  Eye.     Changed  to  "eyes  "  in  the  5th  and  following  eds. 

301.  Sometime.  The  8th,  9th,  nth,  and  I2th  eds.  have  "  Sometimes." 
The  words  were  used  by  S.  interchangeably. 

303.  To  bid  the  wind  a  base.     To  challenge  the  wind  to  a  race.     See 
Cymb.  p.  213,  note  on  Base. 

304.  And  whether.    The  early  eds.  have  "  And  where."    Malone  prints 
"  And  whe'r."     See  J.  C.  p.  128,  note  on  Whe'r.     Gr.  466. 

306.  Who.     The  loth  ed.  "corrects"  this  to  "which."     See  Gr.  264. 

312.  Embracemcnts.     Cf.  790  below.     S.  uses  the  word  oftener  than 
embrace  (noun),  though  in  this  poem  the  latter  is  found  three  times  (539> 
811,  874),  or  as  many  times  as  in  all  his  other  works. 

313.  Malcontent.     The  4th  ed.  has  "male  content." 

314.  Vails.     Lowers  ;  as  in  956  below.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  128. 

315.  Buttock.     Changed  to  the  plural  in  the  4th  and  following  eds. 


I74  NOTES. 

319.  Goeth  about.  Attempts.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  412;  and  see  M.  N.  D. 
p.  177. 

325.  Chafing.    The  4th,  5th,  7th,  and  loth  eds.  have  "chasing."     For 
chafe,  see  J.  C.  p.  131. 

326.  Banning.     Cursing.     Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  319:  "to  curse  and 
ban,"  etc. 

334.  Fire.  A  dissyllable  ;  as  not  unfrequently.  The  first  three  eds. 
print  it  "fier;"  as  they  do  in  402  below,  where  it  is  a  monosyllable. 
Sewell  reads  "  doth  oft." 

.335'  The  hear fs  attorney.  That  is,  the  tongue.  Steevens  aptly  quotes 
Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  127  : 

"Duchess.   Why  should  .calamity  be  full  of  words? 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Windy  attorneys  to  their  client  woes,"  etc. 

343.  Wistly.  Wistfully  ;  modifying  came  stealing,  not  view.  Cf.  R.  of 
L.  1355:  "wistly  on  him  gaz'd,"  etc.  Schmidt  makes  it  —"attentively, 
observingly,  with  scrutiny,"  in  both  passages. 

346.  How  white  and  red,  etc.  Steevens  compares  T.  of  S.  iv.  5.  30  : 
"  Such  war  of  white  and  red  within  her  cheeks  !" 

350.  Lowly.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  slowly." 

352.  Cheek.  Made  plural  in  the  5th  and  later  eds.  In  the  next  line 
the  4th  and  the  rest  read  "cheeks  (or  "  cheekes  ")  reuiues"  or  "cheekes 
receiue;"  and  all  eds.  except  the  1st  have  "tender"  for  tenderer. 

359.  His.  Its.  Gr.  228.  The  allusion  is  to  the  chorus,  or  interpreter, 
in  a  dumb-show,  or  pantomime.  Cf.  Ham.  p.  228,  note  on  Chortts. 

365.  And  unwilling.     The  4th  ed.  has  "and  willing." 

367.  The  engine  of  her  thoughts.  That  is,  her  tongue.  On  engine,  cf. 
T.  G.  of  V.  p.  140. 

376.  Grave.  Engrave,  impress.  Schmidt  makes  it  ="cut  a  little, 
wound  slightly,  graze." 

370.  Thy  heart  my  wound.  "  Thy  heart  wounded  as  mine  is  "  (Ma- 
lone). 

388.  Suffered.     That  is,  allowed  to  burn.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  8.  8  : 

"A  little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out, 
Which,  being  suffer'd,  rivers  cannot  quench." 

397.  Sees.    The  2d,  3d,  and  4th  eds.  have  "  seekes."    ///  her  naked  bed, 
as  H.  takes  the  trouble  to  inform  us,  means  "  naked  in  her  bed."     This 
rhetorical  transference  of  an  epithet  is  familiar  to  every  schoolboy.     Cf. 
"idle  bed  "(y.  C.  ii.  1. 117),  "lazy  bed"  (T.  and  C.  i.  3.  147),  "tired  bed" 
(Lear,  i.  2.  13),  etc.     So  sick  bed,  etc. 

398.  A  whiter  hue  than  white.     Cf.  Cymb.  ii.  2.  14  : 

"  How  bravely  thou  becom'st  thy  bed,  fresh  lily, 
And  whiter  than  the  sheets!" 

and  R.  of  L.  472  :  "  Who  o'er  the  white  sheet  peers  her  whiter  chin." 

411.  Owe.     Own,  possess.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1803,  etc. 

424.  Alarms.  Alarums,  attacks.  The  5th  and  later  eds.  have 
"  alarme."  The  4th  has  "  alarum." 

429.  Mermaid.     Siren  ;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  777  below. 

432.  Ear's.     Misprinted  "Earths  "  in  the  4th  and  later  eds. 


VENUS  AND   ADONIS.  !75 

434.  Invisible.  Steevens  conjectures  "invincible ;"  but,  as  Malone  re- 
marks, "  an  opposition  is  clearly  intended  between  external  beauty,  of 
which  the  eye  is  the  judge,  and  a  melody  of  voice  (which  the  poet  calls 
inward  beauty)  striking  not  the  sight,  but  the  ear." 

436.  Sensible.    Endowed  with  sensibility,  sensitive.    Cf.  L.  L.  L.  p.  152. 

443.  Stillitory.  Alembic,  still ;  used  by  S.  only  here.  Malone,  H., 
and  others  print  "  still'tory." 

447:  Might.  The  reading  of  the  ist  and  2d  eds. ;  "should"  in  the 
rest. 

448.  And  bid  Suspicion,  etc.  Malone  thinks  that  "  a  bolder  or  happier 
personification  than  this  "  is  hardly  to  be  found  in  Shakespeare's  works  ! 

454.  Wrack.  The  regular  form  of  the  word  in  S.  Cf.  the  rhymes  in 
558  below,  R.  of  L.  841,  965,  etc. 

456.  Flaws.  Sudden  gusts,  or  "squalls."  Cf.  Cor.  p.  268,  or  Ham. 
p.  264. 

462.  Struck.  Spelt  "strucke,"  "stroake,"  "stroke,"  and  "strooke" 
in  the  early  eds.  Cf.  J.  C.  p.  146  (on  Hath  stricken]  and  p.  160  (on  Struck- 
en  by  many  princes}.  Gr.  344. 

466.  Bankrupt.  "  Bankrout,"  "banckrout,"  or  "banquerout"  in  the 
old  eds.  See  R.  and  J.  p.  187.  H.  adopts  Walker's  plausible  conject- 
ure of  "  loss  "  for  love. 

469.  All  amaz'd.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "  in  a  maze." 

472.  Fair  fall,  etc.     May  good  luck  befall,  etc.     Cf.  A".  John,  p.  133. 

482.  Blue  windows.  That  is,  eyelids.  See  R.  and  J.  p.  172,  note  on 
Grey  eye. 

484.  Earth.     All  the  early  eds.  except  the  ist  have  "  world." 

488.  Shine.    For  the  noun,  cf.  728  below.     See  Per.  p.  134. 

490.  Repine.  The  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  S.  The  verb  occurs 
only  three  times. 

492.  Shone  like  the  moon,  etc.     Malone  compares  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  30  fol. 

497.  Annoy.     For  the  noun,  cf.  599  below,  R.  of  L.  1109,  1370,  etc. 

500.  Shrewd.     Evil.     Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  p.  202,  or  J.  C.  p.  145. 

506.  Their  crimson  liveries.  Referring,  of  course,  to  the  lips.  The 
transition  to  verdure  in  the  next  line  is  curious,  and  the  whole  passage 
is  a  good  example  of  the  quaint  "conceits"  of  the  time.  The  allusion, 
as  Malone  remarks,  is  to  the  practice  of  strewing  rooms  with  rue  and 
other  strong-smelling  herbs  as  a  means  of  preventing  infection.  The 
astrological  allusion  is  also  to  be  noted.  Writ  on  death  =  predicted  death 
by  their  horoscopes.  The  4th  ed.  has  "  neither  "  for  never. 
"511.  Sweet  seals.  Cf.  M.for  M.  iv.  I.  6  ;  and  see  our  ed.  p.  160. 

515.  Slips.  A  play  on  the  word  as  applied  to  counterfeit  coin.  Cf. 
R.  and  J.  p.  1 73,  note  on  Gave  us  the  counterfeit. 

519.  Touches.     "  Kisses  "  in  the  5th  and  following  eds. 

520.  Told.     Counted  ;  as  in  277  above. 

521.  Say,  for  non-payment,  etc.     "The  poet  was  thinking  of  a  condi- 
tional bond's  becoming  forfeited  for  non-payment ;  in  which  case  the  en- 
tire penalty  (usually  the  double  of  the  principal  sum  lent  by  the  obligee) 
was  formerly  recoverable  at  law"  (Malone). 

524.  Strangeness.     Bashfulness,  reserve.     Cf.  310  above. 
12 


I?6  NOTES. 

526.  Fry.  Or  "small  fry,"  as  we  still  say.  Cf.  A.  W.  iv.  3. 250,  Macb. 
iv.  2.  84,  etc. 

529.  The  world's  comforter.     Cf.  799  below. 
540.  Incorporate.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  208 : 

"As  if  our  hands,  our  sides,  voices,  and  minds, 
Had  been  incorporate.     So  we  grew  together,"  etc. 

544.  Complain  on.     Cf.  1 60  above. 

550.  The  insnlter.  The  exulting  victor  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  noun 
in  S.  For  *)z.n*//= exult,  cf.  Sonn.  107.  12,  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  3.  14,  etc. 

565.  With  tempering.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  3.  140:  "  I  have  him  already 
tempering  between  my  finger  and  my  thumb,  and  shortly  will  I  seal  with 
him  ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  189. 

568.  Leave.    License.    Cf.  the  play  on  the  word  in  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  34  : 

"Ay.  good  leave  have  you;  for  you  will  have  leave 
Till  youth  take  leave,  and  leave  you  to  the  crutch." 

570.  Wooes.     The  4th  ed.  has  "woes." 

571.  Had  she  then  gave.     Elsewhere  S.  has  the  participle  given  (usu- 
ally monosyllabic).     It  is  a  wonder  that  all  the  editors  have  \ztgave  alone 
here.     Cf.  Gr.  343,  344. 

574.  Prickles.  The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "pricks,"  and  "is  it"  for 
V  is. 

589.  Pale.     For  the  noun,  cf.  R.  of  L.  1512  and  W.  T.  iv.  3.  4. 

590.  Like  lawn,  etc.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  258. 

591.  Cheek.     Made  plural  in  the  4th  ed.  et  al.     See  on  352  above. 
593.  Hanging  by.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "hanging  on." 
595.  Lists  of  love.     Steevens  quotes  Dryden,  Don  Sebastian: 

"The  sprightly  bridegroom  on  his  wedding  night 
More  gladly  enters  not  the  lists  of  love." 

597.  Prove.    Experience.    Cf.  608  below,  and  A.  and  C.  i.  2.  33  :  "  You 
have  seen  and  prov'd  a  fairer  former  fortune,"  etc. 

598.  Manage.     For  the  noun  as  applied  to  the  training  of  a  horse,  see 
AL  of  V.  p.  153.     This  is  the  only  instance  in  S.  of  the  verb  similarly 
used. 

599.  That.     So  that.     See  on  242  above.     For  the  allusion  to  Tanta-  • 
lus,cLR.ofL.%$%. 

600.  Clip.     Embrace.     Cf.  O'th.  p.  192. 

602.  Pine.     Starve.     For  the  transitive  use,  cf.  Rich.  71.  p.  210. 

604.  Helpless.  Affording  no  help,  or  sustenance.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  1027  and 
1056.  See  also  Rich.  III.  p.  183. 

The  allusion,  as  Malone  notes,  is  to  the  celebrated  picture  of  Zeuxis, 
mentioned  by  Pliny,  in  which  some  grapes  were  so  well  represented  that 
birds  came  to  peck  them.  Cf.  Sir  John  Davies,  Nosce  Teipsum,  1599: 
"And  birds  of  grapes  the  cunning  shadow  peck." 

612.  Withhold.     Detain,  restrain  ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  iii.  I.  30,  etc. 

615.  Be  advis'd.     Take  heed  ;  as  often. 

616.  Churlish  boar.    Cf.  T.  and  C.\.2.2i:  "  Churlish  as  the  bear,"  etc. 
618.  Mortal.    Death-dealing  ;  as  in  950  below.     See  also  R.  of  L.  364, 

724,  etc.     Schmidt  takes  it  to"  be  here  =  human. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  !yy 

619.  Battle.     Battalion,  host.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  p.  171. 

624.  Crooked.  The  Var.  of  1821  has  "cruel;"  apparently  accidental, 
as  it  is  given  without  comment. 

626.  Proof.     Defensive  armour.     Cf.  Macb.  p.  155,  note  on  54. 

628.  Venture.     Commonly  pronounced  venter  in  the  time  of  S. 
f    632.  Eyes  pay.     The  early  eds.  have  "eyes  (or  "eies")  paies"  (or 
"  payes  ")  or  "  eie  (or  "  eye  ")  paies  "  (or  "  payes  ") ;  corrected  by  Malone. 

Eyne.  The  old  plural,  used  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme,  as  in  R.  of  L. 
643,  M.  N.  D.  \.  i.  244,  ii.  2.  99,  iii.  2.  138,  v.  I.  178,  etc.  In  R.  of  L.  1229, 
it  is  not  a  rhyming  word. 

639.  Within  his  danger.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  I  So:  "You  stand  within 
his  danger,  do  you  not  t"  T.  N.  v.  I.  87  : 

"for  his  sake 

Did  I  expose  myself,  pure  for  his  love, 
Into  the  danger  of  this  adverse  town,"  etc. 

652.  Kill,  kill!  The  old  English  battle-cry  in  charging  the  enemy. 
Cf.  Lear,  iv.  6.  191,  etc. 

655.  Bate-breeding.     Causing  quarrel  or  contention.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV. 
ii.  4.  271 :  "breeds  no  bate  with  telling  of  discreet  stories ;"  and  see  our 
ed.  p.  171.     The  4th  ed.  has  "bare-breeding." 

656.  Canker.     Canker-worm.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  150.     Lovers  tender 
spring—  "the  tender  bud  of  growing  love"  (Malone).     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii. 
2.  3  :  "  Even  in  the  spring  of  love  thy  love-springs  rot." 

657.  Carry -tale.     Used  again  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  463  :    "  Some  carry- 
tale,"  etc. 

662.  Angry-chafing.  Fretting  with  rage.  The  hyphen  was  inserted 
by  Malone. 

668.  Imagination.  Metrically  six  syllables.  Gr.  479.  For  tremble,  the 
3d  and  later  eds.  have  "trembling." 

673.  Uncouple.     Set  loose  the  hounds ;  as  in  M.  N.  D.  iv.  I.  112,  etc. 

677.  Fearful.  Full  of  fear,  timorous.  Cf.  927  below ;  and  see  J.  C. 
p.  175,  note  on  With  fearful  bravery. 

680.  Overshoot.  The  early  eds.  have  "ouer-shut"  or  "  ouershut ;" 
corrected  by  D.  (the  conjecture  of  Steevens). 

682.' Cranks.  Turns,  winds.  Cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  iii.  I.  98 :  "  See  how  this 
river  comes  me  cranking  in." 

683.  Musits.     Holes  for  creeping  through.     Cf.  Two  Noble  Kinsmen, 

P-  J75- 

684.  Amaze.     Bewilder.     Cf.  K.  John,  p.  166. 

694.  Cold  fault.     Cold  scent,  loss  of  scent.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  ind.  I.  20  : 

"  Saw'st  thou  not,  boy,  how  Silver  made  it  good 
At  the  hedge-corner,  in  the  coldest  fault? 
I  would  not  lose  the  dog  for  twenty  pound." 

See  our  ed.  p.  126. 

695.  Spend  their  mouths.     That  is,  bark ;  a  sportsman's  expression. 
Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  70  : 

"for  coward  dogs 

Most  spend  their  mouths  when  what  they  seem  to  threaten 
Runs  far  behind  them." 


I78  NOTES. 

697.  Wat.  "  A  familiar  term  among  sportsmen  for  a  hare  ;  why,  does 
not  appear.  Perhaps  for  no  better  reason  than  Philip  for  a  sparrow 
[cf.  K.  John,  p.  137],  Tom  for  a  cat,  and  the  like  "  (Nares). 

700.  Their.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  with." 

703.  Wretch.     On  the  use  of  the  word  as  a  term  of  pity  or  tenderness, 
see  Oth.  p.  183. 

On  this  whole  passage,  see  p.  20  fol.  above. 

704.  Indenting.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  intending." 

705.  Envious.     Malicious.     See  Rich.  III.  p.  187,  or  M.  of  V.  p.  151. 
712.  Myself.     The  4th  and  following  eds.  have  "thy  selfe." 

724.  True  men  thieves.  The  1st  and  2d  eds.  have  "  true-men  theeves," 
the  3d  "rich-men  theeve,"  the  rest  "rich  men  theeves."  On  the  use  of 
frue  men  in  opposition  to  thieves,  see  I  Hen.  IV.  pp.  160,  168. 

726.  Forsworn.  "  That  is,  having  broken  her  vow  of  virginity  "  (Stee- 
vens). 

734.  Curious.     Careful,  elaborate.     Cf.  A.  W.  i.  2.  20  : 

"  Frank  Nature,  rather  curious  than  in  haste, 
Hath  well  compos'd  thee." 

736.  Defeature.     Deformity ;  as  in  C.  of  E.  ii.  I.  98  and  v.  I.  299. 

738.  Mad.     "  Sad  "  in  the  5th  and  later  eds. 

740.  Wood.     Mad,  frantic.     See  I  Hen.  VI.  p.  156,  on  Raging-uaooa. 

743.  Imposthumes.     Abscesses.     Cf.  Hani.  p.  245. 

746.  Fight.  The  5th  and  following  eds.  have  "sight ;"  and  in  748  the 
4th  and  the  rest  have  "imperiall "  for  impartial. 

751.  Fruitless.  Barren.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  \.  I.  73  :  "the  cold  fruitless 
moon,"  etc. 

754.  Dearth.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  death." 

755.  The  lamp,  etc.     "Ye  nuns  and  vestals,  says  Venus,  imitate  the 
example  of  the  lamp,  that  profiteth  mankind  at  the  expense  of  its  own 
oil."  (Malone). 

760.  Dark.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "  their." 

762.  Sith.     Since.     See  Cor.  p.  236,  note  on  Sithence:     Cf.  1 163  below. 

766.  Reaves.  Bereaves.  For  the  participle,  still  used  in  poetry,  see 
1174  below.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  p.  177. 

768.   Use.     Interest.     See  Mtich  Ado,  p.  133. 

774.  Treatise.  Discourse,  talk,  tale.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  1 . 3 1 7  and  Macb. 
v.  5.  12,  the  only  other  instances  of  the  word  in  S. 

777.  Mermaid1  s.     Siren's.     Cf.  429  above. 

780.  Closure.  Enclosure  ;  as  in  Sonn.  48.  11  and  Rich.  III.  iii.  3.  u. 
In  T.  A.  v.  3.  134  it  is  =  close,  conclusion. 

787.  Reprove.  Disprove,  confute ;  as  in  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  241  :  "  't  is 
so ;  I  cannot  reprove  it,"  etc. 

795.  Simple.     Artless,  guileless. 

807.  In  sadness.     In  earnest.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  p.  144. 

808.  Teen.     Sorrow.     See  R.  and  J.  p.  150,  or  Temp.  p.  113. 

813.  Laund.     Lawn.    The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "lawnes."     See  1 
Hen.  VI.  p.  154. 
825.  Mistrustful.     Causing  mistrust.     See  Gr.  3. 


VENUS  AND  ADONIS.  !79 

830.  That.     So  that.     See  on  242  above. 

833.  Av  me!  Changed  by  H.  to  "Ah  me!"  which  S.  never  uses. 
See  M.  N.  D.  p.  128. 

837.  Thrall.  Enslaved.  Cf.  X.  of  L.  725.  For  the  noun,  see  Macb. 
p.  225. 

840.  Answer.  The  plural  may  be  explained  either  by  the  implied  plu- 
ral in  the  collective  choir  or  by  "confusion  of  proximity"  (Gr.  412). 
The  I2th  ed.  has  "answers." 

848.  Idle  sounds  resembling  parasites.     That  is,  servilely  echoing  what 
she  says,  as  the  context  shows.     St.  reads  "  idle,  sounds-resembling,  par- 
asites." 

849.  Shrill-tongned  tapsters,  etc.     Cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4,  where  Prince 
Henry  amuses  himself  with  the  tapster  Francis. 

850.  Wits.     Theo.  conjectured  "  wights,"  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme ; 
but  parasites  is  spelled  "  parasits  "  in  the  first  three  eds.,  and  may  have 
been  intended  to  be  so  pronounced.     See  on  1001,  1002  below.     But  the 
rhyme  of  parasites  and  wits  is  no  worse  than  many  in  the  poem.     Cf., 
for  instance,  449,  450,  and  635,  636  above. 

854.  Cabinet.  Poetically  for  nest,  as  cabin  in  637  above  for  lair  or 
den. 

858.  Seem  burnished  gold.  Malone  compares  the  opening  lines  of 
Sonn.  33. 

865.  Myrtle  grove.     It  will  be  recollected  that  the  myrtle  was  sacred 
to  Venus. 

866.  Musing.     Wondering.     See  K.  John,  p.  158,  or  Macb.  p.  219. 

868.  For  his  hounds.     The  4th  ed.  omits  his. 

869.  Chant  it.     For  the  it,  see  Gr.  226. 

870.  Coasteth.     Schmidt  well  explains  the  word  :  "to  steer,  to  sail  not 
by  the  direct  way  but  in  sight  of  the  coast,  and  as  it  were  gropingly." 
Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  iii.  2.  38  : 

"The  king  in  this  perceives  him,  how  he  coasts 
And  hedges  his  own  way." 

See  our  ed.  p.  183. 

873.  Twine.  The  ist  and  2d  eds.  have  "twin'd,"  the  3d  "twind,"  and 
the  4th  "twinde  ;"  corrected  in  the  5th. 

877.  At  a  bay.  The  state  of  a  chase  when  the  eame  is  driven  to  ex- 
tremity and  turns  against  its  pursuers.  Cf.  T.  o/S.  v.  2.  56,  etc. 

882.  Spirit.     A  monosyllable,  as  often.     See  on  L.  C.  3  below. 

884.  Blunt.     Rough,  savage.     See  3  Hen.  VI.  p.  163. 

887.  Curst.    Snappish,  fierce.    Cf.  W.  T.  iii.  3.  135  :  "they  [bears]  are 
never  curst  but  when  they  are  hungry;"  Much  Ado,  ii.  1.22:  "a  curst 
cow,"  etc.     See  also  M.  N.  D.  p.  167. ' 

888.  Cope  him.    Cope  with  him,  encounter  him.    Cf.  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  34, 
ii.  3.  275,  etc. 

891.  Who.     For  who  used  "to  personify  irrational  antecedents"  see 
Gr.  264.     Cf.  956  and  1041  below. 

892.  Cold-pale.     The  hyphen  is  in  the  early  eds. 
895.  Ecstasy.     Excitement.     Cf.  Macb.  p.  21 1. 


i8o  NOTES. 

896.  All  dismay V.  The  reading  of  the  ist  and  2d  eds. ;  "Sore  dis- 
may'd  "  in  the  rest. 

899.  For  the  second  bids  the  6th  and  some  later  eds.  have  "  will  s. 
901!  Bepainted.     The  4th  ed.  has  "be  painted." 
907.  Spleens.     Passionate  impulses.     Cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  161. 
909.  Mated.     Bewildered,  paralyzed.     Cf.  Macb.  p.  247. 

911.  Respects.     Considerations,  thoughts  ;  as  in  /,.  L.  L.  v.  2.  792,  etc. 
The  3d  and  later  eds.  have  "  respect." 

912.  In  hand  with.     Taking  in  hand,  undertaking. 

930.  Exclaims  on.     Cries  out  against.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  741,  M.  of  V.  iii. 
2.  176,  etc. 
•     933-   Worm.     Serpent.     See  Cymb.  p.  193,  or  Macb.  p.  215. 

947.  Lcz'Ss  golden  arrow,  etc.  Malone  remarks  that  S.  had  probably 
in  mind  the  old  fable  of  Love  and  Death  exchanging  their  arrows  by 
mistake  ;  and  he  quotes  Massinger,  Virgin  Martyr: 

' '  Strange  affection ! 

Cupid  once  more  hath  chang'd  his  darts  with  Death, 
And  kills  instead  of  giving  life." 

956.  Vail%d.     Let  fall.     See  on  314  above. 

962.  The  tears.  The  4th  and  following  eds.  have  "  her  teares  ;"  and  in 
968  "  which  "  for  who. 

969.  Passion  labours.     The  4th  ed.  has  "passions  labour." 

975.  Dire.  The  4th  ed.  misprints  "  drie,"  which  is  repeated  as  "  dry  " 
in  the  5th  and  7th.  The  loth  has  "drie  "  again. 

988.  Makes.     "  Make  "  in  the  5th  and  following  eds. 

990.  In  likely.  The  reading  of  the  ist  and  2d  eds.  The  3d  and  4th 
have  "  The  likely,"  and  the  rest  "  With  likely." 

993.  All  to  naught.  Good  for  nothing.  Some  print  "ail-to  naught," 
and  others  "all  to-naught."  Cf.  Per.  p.  147,  note  on  17. 

995.  Clepes.     Calls.     See  Macb.  p.  209. 

996.  Imperious.     "  Imperial  "  (the  reading  of  the  5th  ed.  et  at.}.     See 
Ham.  p.  264. 

998.  Pardon  me  I  felt.     That  is,  that  I  felt.     Some  make  pardon  me 
parenthetical. 

999.  Whenas.     When.     See  C.  of  E.  p.  142. 

1002.  Decease.  The  early  eds.  have  "  decesse,"  "deceass,"  or  "de- 
ceasse."  See  on  850  above.  For  my  lovers  the  4th  ed.  has  "  thy  loues/' 

1004.  Wreaked.  Revenged.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  102  and  T.  A.  iv.  3. 
51.  See  also  the  noun  in  Cor.  iv.  5.  91,  T.  A.  iv.  3.  33,  etc.  The  4th  ed. 
prints  "  Bewreakt." 

1010.  Suspect.     For  the  noun,  see  Rich.  III.  p.  188. 

1012.  Insinuate  with.     Try  to  ingratiate  herself  with.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L. 
p.  201. 

1013.  Stories.     For  the  verb,  cf.  R.  of  L.  106  and  Cymb.  i.  4.  34. 

1 02 1.  Fond.  Foolish ;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.  Cf.  R.  ofL.  216, 1094,  etc. 

1027.  Falcon.  The  reading  of  the  5th  ed.,  and  to  be  preferred  on  the 
whole  to  the  plural  of  the  earlier  eds. 

1037.  His  bloody  view.  Walker  (followed  by  H.)  conjectures  "  this  " 
for  his.  See  Gr.  219. 


VENUS  AND   ADONIS.  jgj 

1038.  Deep-dark.     Hyphened  in  the  first  three  eds. 
1041.   Who.     See  on  891  above. 

1051.  Light.     The  reading  of  the  1st  and  2d  £ds.     The  3d  and  4th 
have  '*'  night,"  and  the  rest  "  sight." 

1052.  Trench1  d.     Gashed.     See  Macb.  p.  214.     The  3d  and  4th  eds. 
have  "  drencht." 

1054.   Was.     The  first  four  eds.  have  "  had  ;"  corrected  in  the  5th. 

1059.  Passions.     Grieves.     See  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  150. 

1062.  That  they  have  -wept  till  now.  That  is,  that  they  have  wasted 
their  tears  on  inferior  "hints  of  woe." 

1073.  Eyes'  red  fire.  The  ist  and  2d  eds.  have  "eyes  red  fire,"  the  3d 
has  "eyes  red  as  fire,"  the  4th  "eies  as  red  as  fire,"  and  the  rest  have 
"eyes,  as  fire." 

1083.  Fair.  Beauty;  as  in  C.  of  E.  ii.  i.  98,  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2. 99,  etc.  There 
is  a  play  on  fair  and  fear,  which  were  pronounced  nearly  alike. 

1094.  Fear.     Frighten.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  137,  or  K.  John,  p.  147. 

1098.  Silly.  Innocent,  helpless.  Cf.  R;of L.  167  :  "  the  silly  lambs  ;" 
3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.  43  :  "silly  sheep,"  etc.  See  also  T.G.of  V.p.  145. 

1105.  Urchin-snouted.  With  snout  like  that  of  a  hedgehog.  For 
urchin,  cf.  Temp.  p.  119. 

I  no.  He  thought  to  kiss  him,  etc.  This  conceit,  as  Malone  notes,  is 
found  in  the  3Oth  Idyl  of  Theocritus,  and  in  a  Latin  poem  by  Antonius 
Sebastianus  Minturnus  entitled  De  Adoni  ab  A  pro  Interempio: 

"iterum  atque  juro  iterum, 
Formosum  hunc  iuvenem  tuum  haud  volui 
Meis  diripere  his  cupidinibus ; 
Verum  dum  specimen  nitens  video 
(Aestus  impatiens  tenella  dabat 
Nuda  femina  mollibus  zephyris), 
Ingens  me  miserum  libido  capit 
Mille  suavia  dulcia  hinc  capere,        „ 
Atque  me  impulit  ingens  indomitus. 

Cf.  Milton,  Death  of  a  Fair  Infant: 

"O  fairest  flower,  no  sooner  blown  but  blasted  ! 
Soft  silken  primrose  fading  timelessly, 
Summer's  chief  honour,  if  thou  hadst  outlasted 
Bleak  Winter's  force  that  made  thy  blossom  dry; 
For  he,  being  amorous  on  that  lovely  dye 
That  did  thy  cheek  envermeil,  thought  to  kiss, 
But  kill'd,  alas!  and  then  bewail'd  his  fatal  bliss." 

1113.  Did  not.     All  the  eds.  except  the  ist  have  "would  not." 

1115.  Nuzzling.  Thrusting  his  nose  in  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  word 
in  S.  It  is  spelled  "nousling"  in  all  the  early  eds. 

1120.  Am  I.     The  reading  of  the  ist  and  2d  eds. ;  "  I  am  "  in  the  resL 

1125.  Ears.  The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "ear,"  and  in  the  next  line 
"  he  "  for  they. 

1128.  Lies.     For  the  singular,  see  Gr.  333. 

1134.  Thou.  The  4th  and  following  eds.  have  "you,"  and  in  1139  the 
5th  et  al.  have  "  too  high  "  for  but  high. 

1136.  On  love.     The  4th  ed.  has  "  in  "  for  on. 


l82  NOTES. 

1143.  O 'erstraiv \l.     Overstrewn  ;  used  of  course  for  the  rhyme.     The 
4th  ed.  has  "  ore-straw." 

1 144.  Truest.     The  reading  of  the  first  three  eds. ;  "  sharpest "  in  the 
rest. 

1148.  Measures.  For  measiire  =  2i  grave  and  formal  dance,  see  Rich. 
II.  p.  1 68. 

1151.  Raging-mad  and  silly-mild.  The  hyphens  were  first  inserted  by 
Mai  one. 

1157.  Toward.  Forward,  eager.  Cf.  P.  P.  13,  T.  of  S.  v.  2.  182,  etc. 
For  shows  the  5th  and  later  eels  have  "seems  "  or  "seemes." 

1162.  Combustions.     Combustible;  used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

1163.  Sith.     See  on  762  above. 

1 164.  Loves.     "  Love  "  in  the  4th  and  later  eds. 

1168.  A  purple  flower.     The  anemone.     The  4th  ed.  has  "purpuPd." 

1 1 74.  Reft.     See  on  766  above. 

1183.  Here  in.  The  reading  of  the  1st  and  2d  eds. ;  "here  is"  in  the 
rest. 

1187.  In  an  hour.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "of"  for  /;/. 

1190.  Doves.     See  on  153  above. 

1193.  Paphos.  A  town  in  Cyprus,  the  chief  seat  of  the  worship  of 
Venus.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  I.  93  and  Per.  iv.  prol.  32. 


THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 

THE  DEDICATION.— 2.  Moiety.  Often  used  by  S.  of  a  portion  other 
than  an  exact  half.  See  Ham.  p.  174. 

6.  Would.     The  reading  of  the  first  three  eds.;  "should"  in  the  rest. 

THE  ARGUMENT. — "This  appears  to  have  been  written  by  Shake- 
speare, being  prefixed  to  the  original  edition  of  1594;  and  is  a  curiosity, 
this  and  the  two  dedications  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton  being  the  only 
prose  compositions  of  our  great  poet  (not  in  a  dramatic  form)  now  re- 
maining" (Malone). 

3.  Requiring.  Asking.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  4.  144  :  "  In  humblest  man- 
ner I  require  your  highness,"  etc. 

14.  Disports.  For  the  noun,  cf.  Oth.  i..3.  272,  the  only  other  instance 
in  S. 

THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE.— For  the  title,  see  p.  n  above.  The  Camb. 
editors  give  "  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  "  throughout. 

I.  Ardea.  As  D.  notes,  S.  accents  the  word  on  the  first  syllable,  as  it 
should  be.  The  Var.  of  1821  and  some  other  eds.  have  "besieg'd," 
which  requires  "  Ardea." 

/;/  post.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  i.  2.  63 :  "I  from  my  mistress  come  to  you  in 
post,"  etc.  We  find  "  in  all  post  "  in  Rich.  III.  iii.  5.  73. 

3.  Lust-breathed.     Animated  by  lust. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  I83 

8.  Unhappily.     The  early  eds.  have  "vnhap'ly"  or  "  vnhaply,"  except 
the  yth,  which  misprints  "  unhappy." 

9.  Bateless.     Not  to  be  blunted.     Cf.  unbated  in  Ham.  iv.  7.  139  and  v. 
2.  328.     See  also  the  verb  bate  in  L.  L.  L.  i.  i.  6. 

10.  Let.     "  Forbear"  (Malone).     Cf.  328  below,  where  it  is  ^hinder.     ' 
14.  Aspects.     Accented  on  the  first  syllable,  as  regularly  in  S.    Cf.  452 

below. 

19.  Such  high-proud.     The  5th,  6th,  and  7th  eds.  have  "so  high  a." 

21.  Peer.     The  reading  of  the  1st  ed.  ;  "  prince  "  in  all  the  rest. 

23.  Done.  Brought  to  an  end,  ruined.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  197,  749,  A.  W. 
iv.  2.  65,  etc. 

26.  Expired.  Accented  on  the  first  syllable  because  preceding  a  noun 
so  accented.  Cf.  unstained  in  87,  extreme  in  230,  supreme  in  780,  unfelt  in 
828,  dispersed  in  1805,  etc.  The  5th,  6th,  and  7th  eds.  have  "A  date  ex- 
pir'd  :  and  canceld  ere  begun." 

37.  Suggested.     Incited,  tempted.     See  Rich.  //.p.  153,  note  on  101. 

40.  Braving  compare.  Challenging  comparison.  For  the  noun,  cf.  V. 
and  A.  8,  Sonn.  21.5,  etc. 

44.  All-too-timeless.     Too  unseasonable  ;  first  hyphened  by  Malone. 

47.  Liver.  For  the  liver  as  the  seat  of  sensual  passion,  cf.  Temp.  iv.  i< 
56,  M.  W.  ii.  i.  121,  etc.  For  glows  the  7th  ed.  has  "growes." 

49.  Blasts.  For  the  intransitive  use,  cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  I.  48 :  "blasting 
in  the  bud." 

56.  O'er.     "  Ore  "  or  "  or'e  "  in  the  -early  eds.     Malone  was  inclined 
to  take  it  as  the  noun  ore  "in  the  sense  of  or  or  gold." 

57.  In  that  white  i/itituled.     Consisting  in  that  whiteness,  or  taking  its 
title  from  it  (Steevens). 

58.  Venus'  doves.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  153  and  1190. 

63.  Fence.     Defend,  guard  ;  as  in  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  6.  75,  iii.  3.  98,  etc. 

72.  Field.  There  is  a  kind  of  play  upon  the  word  in  its  heraldic  sense 
and  that  of  a  field  of  battle. 

71.  War  of  lilies  and  of  roses.  Steevens  compares  Cor.  ii.  I.  232  and 
V.  and  A.  345  ;  and  Malone  adds  T.  of  S.  v.  2.  30. 

82.  That  praise  which  Collating  doth  owe.  Malone  and  H.  make  praise 
—  object  of  praise,  and  oive  =  possess.  This  interpretation  seems  forced 
and  inconsistent  with  the  next  line,  which  they  do  not  explain.  We  pre- 
fer to  take  both  praise  and  owe  in  the  ordinary  sense.  For  0we  =  pos- 
sess,  see  Rich.  II.  p.  204,  and  cf.  1803  below. 

87.  Unstained  thoughts.     The  words  are  transposed  in  the  5th  and 
later  eds. 

88.  Lim'd.     Ensnared  by  bird-lime.     Cf.  Ham.  p.  233. 

89.  Securely.    Unsuspiciously.    Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  2.  252,  K.  John,  ii.  1. 374, 
etc. 

92.  For  that  he  coloured.     For  that  inward  ill  he  covered  or  disguised. 

93.  Plaits.     That  is,  plaited  robes.     The  old  eds.  spell  it  "pleats." 
Boswell  quotes  Lear,  i.  i.  183  :  "Time  shall  unfold  what  plaited  cunning 
hides."     These  are  the  only  instances  of  the  words  in  S. 

94.  That.    So  that.    See  on  V.  and  A.  242.    For  inordinate,  cf.  I  Hen. 
IV.  iii.  2.  12  and  Oth.  ii.  3.  311. 


184  NOTES. 

100.  Parling.     Speaking,  significant.     The  verb  occurs  again  in  L.  L. 

L.  V.  2.  122. 

102.  Margents.  Margins.  For  other  allusions  to  the  practice  of  writ- 
ing explanations  and  comments  in  the  margin  of  books,  see  M.  N.  D. 
p.  142. 

104.  Moralize.     Interpret.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  4. 81  : 

" BioncUllo.  Faith,  nothing;  but  has  left  me  here  behind,  to  expound  the  meaning  or 
moral  of  his  signs  and  tokens. 
Lucentio.  I  pray  thee,  moralize  them." 

See  also  Rich.  III.  p.  209. 

106.  Stories.     For  the  verb,  cf.  V.  and  A.  1013. 

117.  Mother.  The  5th  and  later  eds.  change  this  to  "sad  source;" 
and  stows  in  119  to  "shuts."  For  stows,  cf.  Oth.  i.  2.  62  :  "where  hast 
thou  stow'd  my  daughter  ?" 

121.  Intending.     Pretending.     See  Ruh.  III.  p.  215.     For  spright,  see 
on  V.  and  A.  181. 

122.  Questioned.     Talked,  conversed.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  70,  etc. 

125.  Themselves  betake.  The  Bodleian  copy  of  1st  ed.  (see  p.  n  above) 
has  "himseife  betakes,"  and  "wakes"  in  the  next  line;  and  these  are 
the  readings  in  the  Var.  of  1821. 

133.  Though  death  be  adjunct.  Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  3.  57 :  "  Though  that 
my  death  were  adjunct  to  my  act."  These  are  the  only  instances  of 
adjunct  in  S.  except  Sonn.  91.  5. 

135.  For  what,  etc.  The  first  four  eds.  have  "That  what,"  etc.,  and 
the  rest  "That  oft,"  etc.  The  earliest  reading  may  be  explained  after  a 
fashion,  as  by  Malone  :  "  Poetically  speaking,  they  may  be  said  to  scat- 
ter what  they  have  not,  that  is,  what  they  cannot  be  truly  said  to  have ; 
what  they  do  not  enjoy,  though  possessed  of  it."  Malone  compares  Dan- 
iel, Rosamond:  "  As  wedded  widows,  wanting  what  we  have  ;"  and  the 
same  author's  Cleopatra:  "For  what  thou  hast,  thou  still  dost  lacke." 
"  Tarn  avaro  deest  quod  habet,  quam  quod  non  habet "  is  one  of  the 
sayings  of  Publius  Syrus.  But  we  have  little  hesitation  in  adopting 
Staunton's  conjecture  of  For  what,  etc.,  as  do  the  Camb.  editors  (in  the 
"Globe"  ed.)  and  H.  It  is  supported  by  the  context:  they  scatter  or 
spend  what  they  have  in  trying  to  get  what  they  have  not,  and  so  by 
hoping  more  they  have  but  less.  Bond  must  here  be  =  ownership,  or  that 
which  a  bond  claims  or  secures.  The  reading  of  the  5th  ed.  seems  to  be 
a  clumsy  attempt  to  mend  the  corruption  of  the  1st. 

140.  Bankrupt.  Spelled  "backrout,"  "banckrout,"  or  "bankrout"  in 
the  early  eds.  See  on  V.  and  A.  466. 

144.  Gage.     Stake,  risk. 

150.  Ambitious  foul.     Walker  would  read  "ambitious-foul." 

160.  Confounds.  Ruins,  destroys ;  as  in  250,  1202,  and  1489  below. 
Cf.  confusion— \\i\\-\,  in  1159  below. 

164.  Comfortable.     Comforting.     See  Lear,  p.  193,  or  Gr.  3. 

167.  Silly.     See  on  V.  and  A.  1098. 

168.  IVakes.     Malone  and  some  others  have  "wake."     See  Gr.  336. 
174.  Too  too.     D.  and  H.  print  "  too-too."     See  /]/.  of  V.  p.  143.     For 

retire  as  a  noun,  cf.  573  below. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 


'85 


177.  That.  So  that.  See  on  94  above.  The  5th  and  following  eds. 
have  "  doth  "  for  do. 

179.  Lode-star.     The  preferable  spelling.     S.  uses  the  word  again  in 
M.  N.  D.  i.  i.  183. 

180.  Advisedly.     Deliberately;  as  in  1527  and  1816  below. 

1 88.  Naked.     As  Schmidt  notes,  there  is  a  kind  of  play  upon  the  word. 
Still-slaughtered  (first  hyphened  by  Mai  one)  =  ever  killed  but  never  dying. 
196.  Weed.     Robe,  garment.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  149. 
200.  Fancy's.     Love's  ;  as  often.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  148. 
202.  Digression.     Transgression,  as  in  L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  121. 

205.  Golden  coat.     That  is,  coat-of-arms  ;  an  anachronism  here. 

206.  Some  loathsome  dash,  etc.     "  In  the  books  of  heraldry  a  particu- 
lar mark  of  disgrace  is  mentioned  by  which  the  escutcheons  of  those 
persons  were  anciently  distinguished  who  *  discourteously  used  a  widow, 
maid,  or  wife,  against  her  will '  "  (Malone). 

207.  Fondly.     Foolishly.     Cf.  the  adjective  in  216,  284,  and  1094  be- 
low ;  and  see  on  V.  and  A.  1021. 

208.  That.     So  that;  as  in  94  and  177  above.     Ar<?/^=brand,  stigma. 
See  Rich.  //.p.  151,  note  on  43. 

217.  Stmcken.  The  early  eds.  have  "stroke,"  "stroken,"  or  "struck- 
en."  See  on  V.  and  A.  462. 

221.  Marriage.     A  trisyllable.     See  Per.  p.  141,  or  T.  of  S.  p.  152. 

230.  Extreme.     For  the  accent,  see  on  26  above. 

236.  QuittaL  Requital ;  used  by  S.  only  here.  Cf.  quittance  in  2  Hen. 
IV.  \.  i.  108,  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  34,  etc. 

239.  Ay,  if.  The  first  four  eds.  have  "  I,  if"  (ay  is  regularly  printed  1 
in  the  early  eds.) ;  the  rest  have  "if  once." 

244.  Saw.  Moral  saying,  rnaxim.  Cf.  Ham.  p.  197.  For  the  prac- 
tice of  putting  these  saws  on  the  painted  cloth  or  hangings  of  the  poet's 
time,  see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  176,  note  on  I  answer  you  right  painted  cloth. 

246.  Disputation.     Metrically  five  syllables.     See  on  V.  and  A.  668. 

258.  Roses  that  on  lawn,  etc.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  590. 

260.  How.     The  5th  and  later  ed".  have  '-'now." 

264.  Cheer.     Face,  look.     Cf.  M.  t\f  V.  p.  152. 

265.  Narcissus.     Cf.  V.and  A.  i6t. 

268.  Pleadeth.  The  5th  and  folj owing  eds.  have  "pleads,"  with 
'•'dreads"  and  "leades"  in  the  rhyming  lines. 

274.  Then,  childish  fear  avaunt !  etc.     In  this  line  and  the  next  we  fol- 
low the  pointing  of  the  early  eds.     Most  of  the  editors,  with  Malone, 
make  fear,  debating,  etc.,  vocatives. 

275.  Respect.     "  Cautious  prudence  "  (Malone),  consideration  of  conse- 
quences.    Cf.  T.  and  C.  p.  180. 

277.  Beseems.     Becomes.     For  the  number, see  on  168  above.    Sad— 
serious,  sober.     Cf.  the  noun  in  V.  and  A.  807. 

278.  My  part.   A  metaphor  taken  from  the  stage.    Malone  sees  a  spe- 
cial reference  to  the  conflicts  between  the  Devil  and  the  Vice  in  the  old 
moralities  (see  T.  N.  p.  159,  note  on  Vice}, 

284.  Fond.     Foolish,  weak.     See  on  207  above. 

293.  Seeks  to.    Applies  to.    Cf.  Burton,  Anat.  of  Mel  an. :  "  why  should 


186  NOTES. 

we  then  seek  to  any  other  but  to  him  ?"     See  also  Dent,  xii.  5,  I  Kings, 
x.  24,  Isa.  viii.  19,  xix.  3. 

301.  Marcheth.  The  5th  and  following  eds.  have  "doth  march  ;"  and 
in  303  "recites"  for  retires. 

303.  Retires  his  ward.     Draws  back  its  bolt.     For  the  transitive  verb, 
cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  2.  46 :  "  might  have  retir'd  his  power  ;"  and  for  ward  see 
T.  of  A.  iii.  3.  38  :  "  Doors  that  were  ne'er  acquainted  with  their  wards." 

304.  Rate  his  ill.     That  is,  chide  it  by  the  noise  they  make. 

308.  His  fear.     That  is,  the  object  of  his  fear.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  1. 21  : 

"Or  in  the  night,  imagining  some  fear, 
How  often  is  a  bush  suppos'd  a  bear!" 

313.  His  conduct.  That  which  conducts  or  guides  him.  Cf.  R.  and  J. 
iii.  i.  129 :  "  And  fire-eyed  fury  be  my  conduct  now  !"  and  Id.  v.  3.  116  : 
"  Come,  bitter  conduct,  come,  unsavoury  guide,"  etc. 

319.  Needle.  Monosyllabic;  as  in  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  204  (see  our  ed.  p. 
165),  K.  John,  v.  2.  157,  etc.  Some  print  it  "  neeld."  See  Gr.  465. 

328.  Let.     Hinder.     Cf.  the  noun  just  below ;  and  see  Ham.  p.  195. 

331.  Prime.     Spring  ;  as  in  Sonn.  97.  7,  etc. 

333.  Sneaped.     Nipped,  frost-bitten.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  \.  i.  100  : 

"an  envious  sneaping  frost 
That  bites  the  first-born  infants  of  the  spring ;" 

and  see  our  ed.  p.  130. 

347.  And  they.  Steevens  conjectured  "  And  he  ;"  but  power  is  treated 
as  a  plural — perhaps  on  account  of  the  preceding  heavens.  Cf.  the  plural 
use  of  heaven,  for  which  see  Rich.  II.  p.  157,  note  on  7. 

349.  Fact.  Deed.  Some  explain  it  as  "crime."  See  Macb.  p.  2215,  or 
W.  T.  p.  175. 

352.  Resolution.  Metrically  five  syllables.  See  on  246  above.  111354 
the  5th  and  following  eds.  have  "  Blacke  "  for  The  blackest.  The  for- 
mer, it  will  be  seen,  will  satisfy  the  measure  if  absolution  is  made  five  syl- 
lables like  resolution. 

370.  Full.    The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "too." 

372.  Fiery -pointed.  "  Throwing  darts  with  points  of  fire  "  (Schmidt). 
Steevens  wanted  to  read  "fire-ypointed ;"  and  the  meaning  of  fiery •- 
pointed  may  possibly  be  pointed  (^appointed,  equipped)  with  fire. 

377.  Or  else  some  shame  supposed.  Or  else  some  shame  is  imagined 
by  them.  H.  has  the  following  curious  note  :  "  An  odd  use  of  supposed, 
but  strictly  classical.  So  in  Chapman's  Byron's  Conspiracy,  1608  :  *  Fool- 
ish statuaries,  that  under  little  saints  suppose  great  bases,  make  less,  to 
sense,  the  saints.' "  How  the  etymological  sense  of  supposed  (placed 
under)  can  suit  the  present  passage  it  is  not  easy  to  see. 

386.  Cheek.     The  reading  of  ist,  2d,  and  4th  eds. ;  plural  in  the  rest. 

388.  Who.     See  on  V.  and  A.  891.     Cf.  447  and  461  below. 

389.  To  want.     At  wanting  or  missing.     Gr.  356. 

402.  Map.    Picture,  image.    Cf.  1712  below.    See  also  Rich.  II.  p.  207. 
408.  Maiden  worlds.    \V.  calls  the  epithet  "  unhappy  "  and  a  "  heedless 
misuse  of  language  ;"  but  the  context  explains  and  justifies  it. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE. 


187 


424.  Qualified.  "  Softened,  abated,  diminished  "  (Steevens).  Cf.  M. 
of  V.  iv.  1.7,  W.  T.  iv.  4.  543,  etc. 

429.  Obdurate.     For  the  accent,  see  on  V.  and  A.  199. 

436.  Commends.     "  Commits  "  (Malone). 

439.  Breast.     Made  plural  in  the  5th  and  following  eds. 

448.  Controlled.     Restrained.     Cf.  500,  678,  and  1781  below. 

453.  Taking.  Now  used  only  colloquially  in  this  sense.  Cf.  M.  W. 
iii.  3.  491  :  "What  a  taking  was  he  in  when  your  husband  asked  who 
was  in  the  basket !" 

456.  Wrapped.  Involved,  overwhelmed.  H.  reads  "  rapt."  Cf.  636 
below. 

458.  Winking.    Shutting  her  eyes.     See  on  V.  and  A.  90. 

459.  Antics.    Fantastic  appearances.     The  early  eds.  have  "antiques." 
See  M.  N.  D.  p.  179,  note  on  Antique. 

467.  Bulk.  Chest.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  p.  193.  T/iat=so  that;  as  in  94, 
177,  and  208  above. 

471.  Heartless.     Without  heart,  or  courage;  as  in  1392  below.     See 
also  R.  and  J.  i.  i.  73  :  "  heartless  hinds."     These  are  the  only  instances 
of  the  word  in  S. 

472.  Peers.     Lets  appear,  shows.     Elsewhere  in  S.  peer  is  intransitive. 
476.  Colour.    Pretext.    For  the  play  on  the  word  in  the  reply,  cf.  2  Hen. 

IV.  v.  5.91  : 

"  Falstaff.   Sir,  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word  ;  this  that  you  heard  was  but  a  colour. 
Shallow.  A  colour  that  I  fear  you  will  die  in,  Sir  John." 

See  our  ed.  p.  204. 

493.  /  think,  etc.  "  I  am  aware  that  the  honey  is  guarded  with  a 
sting"  (Malone). 

496.  Only.     For  the  transposition  of  the  adverb,  see  Gr.  420. 

497.  On  what  he  looks.     That  is,  on  what  he  looks  on.     See  Gr.  394. 
500.  Affection's.     Passion's,  lust's.     Cf.  W.  T.  p.  154. 

502.  Ensue.  Follow  ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  ii.  i.  197  :  "Let  not  to-morrow, 
then,  ensue  to-day."  See  also  i  Peter,  iii.  u. 

506.  Towering.      A   technical  term  in  falconry.     See  Macb.  p.  203. 
Like  may  possibly  be  —as  (cf.  Per.  p.  143),  or  there  may  be  a  "confusion 
of  construction  "  (see  Gr.  415).     H.  adopts  the  former  explanation,  and 
gives  the  impression  that  like  is  "  repeatedly  "  so  used  by  S.     The  fact  is, 
that  there  is  not  a  single  clear  instance  of.it  in  all  his  works.     The  two 
examples  in  Pericles  are  not  in  his  part  of  the  play  :  and  in  M.  N.  D.  iv. 
i.  178  (the  only  other  possible  case  of  the  kind)  the  reading  is  doubtful 
(see  our  ed.  p.  177),  and  with  either  reading  the  passage  may  be  pointed 
so  as  to  avoid  this  awkward  use  of  like.     If  S.  had  been  willing  to  em- 
ploy it,  he  would  probably  have  done  so  "repeatedly ;"  but  it  seems  to 
have  been  no  part  of  his  English. 

507.  Coucheth.     Causes  to  couch  or  cower.     Cf.  the  intransitive  use  in 
A.  W.  iv.  i.  24,  etc. 

511.  Falcon's  bells.  For  the  bells  attached  to  the  necks  of  tame  fal- 
cons, cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  3.  81  and  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  1.47  (see  our  ed.  p.  141). 

522.  Nameless.  "  Because  an  illegitimate  child  has  no  name  by  inher- 
itance, being  considered  by  the  law  as  nuilius  filius  "  (Malone).  Cf.  7i 


1 88  NOTES. 

G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  321  :  "  bastard  virtues,  that  indeed  know  not  their  fathers, 
and  therefore  have  no  names." 

530.  Simple.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  I.  16:  "compounded  of  many  simples," 
etc. 

531.  A  pure  compound.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "purest  com- 
pounds."    In  the  next  line,  /its  =  its.     Purified  —  rendered  harmless. 

534.  Tender.  Favour.  It  is  often  similarly  used  (=regard  or  treat 
kindly) ;  as  in  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  145,  C.  of  E.  v.  i.  132,  etc. 

537.  Wipe.  Brand  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  S.  For  birth- 
hour's  blot,  cf.  M.N.D.v.  i.  416  : 

"And  the  blots  of  Nature's  hand 
Shall  not  in  their  issue  stand  ; 
Never  mole,  hare-lip,  nor  scar, 
Nor  mark  prodigious,  such  as  are 
Despised  in  nativity. 
Shall  upon  their  children  be." 

540.  Cockatrice''  dead-killing  eye.  For  the  fabled  cockatrice,  or  basi- 
lisk, which  was  supposed  to  kill  with  a  glance  of  its  eye,  see  Hen.  V.  p. 
183,  note  on  The  fatal  balls. 

543.  Gripe's.  Griffin's  (Steevens).  The  word  is  often  ^vulture;  as  in 
Sidney's  Astrophel : 

"  Upon  whose  breast  a  fiercer  gripe  doth  tire, 
Than  did  on  him  who  first  stole  down  the  fire  ;" 

Ferrex  and  Porrex :  "Or  cruel  gripe  to  gnaw  my  growing  harte,"  etc. 
For  allusions  to  the  griffin,  see  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  232  and  i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  152. 

547.  But.  The  reading  of  all  the  early  eds.  Changed  by  Sewell  to 
"  As,"  and  by  Malone  to  "  Look."  Bosvvell  explains  the  text  thus  :  "  He 
knows  no  gentle  right,  but  still  her  words  delay  him,  as  a  gentle  gust 
blows  away  a  black-faced  cloud." 

550.  Blows.     The  early  eds.  have  "  blow  ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

553.  Winks.     Shuts  his  eyes,  sleeps.     See  on  458  above.    For  Orpheus, 
cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  78,  AL  of  V.\.  i.  80,  Hen.  V1JI.  iii.  i.  3,  etc. 

554.  Night-looking.     Awake  at  night.     \V.  omits  the  hyphen. 

559.  Plaining.     Complaining.     See  Lear,  p.  216,  or  Rich.  II.  p.  164. 
565.  His.     Its  ;  as  in  532  above.     Steevens  quotes  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  96  : 
"  Make  periods  in  the  midst  of  sentences,"  etc. 

568.  Conjures.     The  accent  in  S.  is  on  either  syllable  without  regard 
to  the  sense.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  164. 

569.  Gentry.     His  gentle  birth.     Cf.  W.  T.  i.  2.  393,  Cor.  iii.  I.  144,  etc. 
576.  Pretended.    Intended  ;  as  in  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  6.  37  :   "their  pretend- 
ed flight,"  etc. 

579.  Shoot.    For  the  noun,  cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  i.  10,  12,  26,  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2. 
49,  etc.     Malone  conjectures  "suit,"  with  a  play  on  the  word,  which  was 
then  pronounced  shoot.     See  L.  L.  L.  p.  144,  note  on  103. 

580.  Woodman.     Huntsman.     See  M.  W.  p.  164. 

581.  Unseasonable.     Cf.  M.  W.  iii.  3.  169  ;  and  see  our  ed.  p.  154,  note 
on  Of  the  season. 

592.  Convert.  For  the  intransitive  use,  cf.  691  below.  See  also  Rich. 
II.  p.  210.  For  the  rhyme,  cf.  Sonn.  14.  12,  17.  2,  49.  10,  72.  6,  etc. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  i89 

595.  At  an  iron  gate.     Even  at  the  gates  of  a  prison  (Steevens). 

607.  Be  remembered.  Remember,  bear  in  mind.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  p.  184, 
note  on  /  am  remembered. 

609.  In  clay.  That  is,  even  in  their  graves.  Their  misdeeds  will  live 
after  them. 

615, 616.  For  princes  are  the  glass,  etc.  For  the  arrangement,  see  Ham. 
p.  219,  note  on  151. 

618.  Lectures.  Lessons.  Elsewhere  in  S.  read  lectures  —  give  lessons, 
not  receive  them.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  365,  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  148,  Cor.  ii.  3. 
243,  etc. 

622.  Laud.     Cf.  887  below,  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  236,  etc. 

637.  Askance.  Turn  aside ;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in  S. 
Schmidt  paraphrases  the  line  thus  :  "  who,  in  consequence  of  their  own 
misdeeds,  look  with  indifference  on  the  offences  of  others." 

639.  Lust,  thy  rash  relier.     "  That  is,  lust  wh'ich  confides  too  rashly 
in  thy  present  disposition  and  does  not  foresee  its  necessary  change" 
(Schmidt).     The  5th  and  following  eels,  have  "  reply  "  for  relier. 

640.  Repeal.     Recall.     Cf.  J.  C.  p.  157. 

643.  Eyne.  See  on  V.  and  A.  632.  The  5th  and  later  eds.  have 
"  eies  ;"  and  in  649  "  pretty  "  for  petty. 

646.  Let.     Hindrance  ;  as  in  330  above. 

651.  70  his.  The  reading  of  the  1st  and  2d  eds.  The  3d  has  "to 
the,"  and  the  others  "  to  this."  The  7th  has  also  "  not  thee  "  for  not  his. 

655.  Who.     See  on  388  above. 

657.  Puddle's.  The  reading  of  1st,  2d,  and  4th  eds.  ;  the  others  have 
"  puddle."  For  hears\l  the  5th  and  6th  have  "  bersed,"  and  the  7th 
"  persed."  Hearsed  is  found  also  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  I.  93  and  Ham.  i.  4.  47. 

661.  Thy  fouler  grave.  H.  points  "thy  fouler,  grave;"  and  adds  this 
strange  note  :  "  Grave  is  here  a  verb,  meaning  to  bury  or  be  the  death 
of."  He  seems  to  take  the  line  to  mean,  Thou  buriest  their  fair  life, 
and  they  bury  thy  fouler  life  ;  but  how  he  would  explain  the  former 
clause  we  cannot  guess.  Of  course  the  meaning  is,  Thou  art  their  fair 
life — a  repetition  of  the  idea  in  they  basely  dignified. 

678.  Controlled.     See  on  448  above. 

680.  Nightly.  The  5th  and  6th  eds.  misprint  "mighty."  Linen  is  not 
=  nightgown  (cf.  Macb.  p.  194),  but  a  linen  cloth  about  the  head. 

684.  Prone.     Headlong.     The  3d,  5th,  6th,  and  7th  eds.  have  "  proud.' 

691.  Converts.     Changes.     See  on  592  above. 

696.  Balk.     Disregard,  neglect.     Cf.  Davies,  Scourge  of  Folly,  161 1  : 

"Learn'd  and  judicious  lord,  if  I  should  balke 

Thyne  honor'd  name,  it  being  in  my  way, 

My  muse  unworthy  were  of  such  a  walke, 

Where  honor's  branches  make  it  ever  May. 

698.  Fares.  The  5th  and  6th  eds.  have  "feares,"  and  in  706  "of 
reine  "  for  or  rein. 

701.  Conceit.     Conception,  thought.     Cf.  1298  below. 
703.  His  receipt.     What  he  has  received;  as  in  Cor.  i.  I.  116. 
"The  discontented  members,  the  muthious  parts 
That  envied  his  [the  stomach's]  receipt." 


I90  NOTES. 

707.  7}'//,  /z/k  a  jade,  etc.     Steevens  aptly  quotes  Hen.  VIIL  i.  I.  132  : 

"Anger  is  like 

A  full-hot  horse,  who  being  allow' d  his  way, 
Self-mettle  tires  him." 

Yorjade  (—a  worthless  or  vicious  horse),  cf.  V.  and  A.  391. 

721.  The  spotted  princess.  The  polluted  soul.  For  spotted,  cf.  M.  N. 
D.  i.  I.  no,  Rich.  II.  iii.  2.  134,  etc. 

728.  Forestall.  Prevent;  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  141,  etc.  The  7th 
ed.  has  "forest,  all;"  as  "presence"  for  prescience  in  727,  and  "swear- 
ing" for  sweating  in  740. 

733.  Perplexed.  Bewildered,  confounded.  Cf.  Oth.  v.  2.  346  :  "  Per- 
plex'd  in  the  extreme,"  etc. 

741.  Exclaiming  on.     Crying  out  against.     Cf.  V.andA.<)$Q. 

743.  Convertite.  Convert,  penitent.  The  word  is  found  also  in  A,  K 
L.  v.  4.  190  and  K.  John,  v.  I.  19. 

747.  Scapes.  Transgressions ;  as  in  W.  T.  iii.  3.  73  :  "  some  scape," 
etc. 

752.  Be.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "  lie." 

766.  Black  stage.  In  the  time  of  S.  the  stage  was  hung  with  black 
when  tragedies  were  performed  (Malone).  Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  p.  140,  note 
on  Hung  be  the  heavens  with  black. 

768.  Defame.  Cf.  817  and  1033  below.  These  are  the  only  instances 
of  the  noun  in  S. 

774.  Proportioned.     "  Regular,  orderly  "  (Schmidt). 

780.  Supreme.     For  the  accent,  see  on  26  above. 

781.  Arrive.     For  the  transitive  use,  cf.  J.  C.  i.  2.  no,  Cor.  ii.  3.  189, 
etc.     For  prick  =  dial- point,  see  ft.  and  J.  p.  175,  note  on  Prick  of  noon. 

782.  Misty.     The-ist  and  2cl  eds.  have  "  mustie  ;"  corrected  in  the  3d 
ed.,  which,  however,  misprints  "  vapour  "  for  vapours. 

783.  /;/  their  smoky  ranks   his  smothered  light.     That  is,  his   light 
smothered  in  their  smoky  ranks.     Gr.  419^. 

786.  Distain.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  ''disdaine." 

791.  Palmers'.     Pilgrims'.     See  A.  W.  p.  161. 

792.  Where.     Whereas.     See  L.  L.  L.  p.  136,  or  Gr.  134. 
805.  Septdchred.     For  the  accent,  see  Lear,  p.  210. 

807.  Charactered.     For  the  accent,  see  Ham.  p.  189. 

811.  Cipher.     Decipher;  used  by  S.  only  here  and  in  207  and  1396  of 
this  poem. 

812.  Quote.    Note,  observe.    Cf.  R.  and  J.  p.  154.    The  word  is  spelled 
cote  in  the  1st  and  2d  eds.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  132. 

817.  Feast-finding.  "Our  ancient  minstrels  were  the  constant  attend- 
ants on  feasts"  (Steevens).  Their  music  of  course  made  them  welcome. 

820.  Senseless.    Not  sensible  of  the  wrong  done  it. 

828.  Crest-wounding.  Staining  or  disgracing  the  family  crest  or  coat 
of  arms. 

830.  Mot.  Motto,  or  wordy  as  it  was  sometimes  called.  See  Per. 
p.  140. 

841.  Guilty.  Malone  reads  "  guiltless."  Sewell  makes  the  line  a  ques- 
tion ;  but,  as  Boswell  says,  Lucrece  at  first  reproaches  herself  for  hav- 


THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE.  !9I 

ing  received  Tarquin's  visit,  but  instantly  defends  herself  by  saying  that 
she  did  it  out  of  respect  to  her  husband. 

848.  Intrude.     Invade  ;  not  elsewhere  transitive  in  S. 

849.  Cuckoos.    For  the  allusion  to  the  cuckoo's  laying  its  eggs  in  other 
birds'  nests,  see  the  long  note  in  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  195. * 

851.  Folly.  "  Used,  as  in  Scripture,  for  wickedness  "  (Malone).  Schmidt 
explains  it  as  "inordinate  desire,  wantonness,"  both  here  and  in  556 
above.  Cf.  Oth.  v.  2.  132  :  "  She  turn'd  to  folly,  and  she  was  a  whore  ;" 
and  see  our  ed.  p.  206. 

858.  Still-pining.     Ever-longing.     Cf.  " still-vex'd "  (Temp.  i.  2.  229), 
"  still-closing  "  (Id.  iii.  3.  64),  etc.     For  Tantalus,  see  V.  and  A.  599. 

859.  Barns.     Stores  up  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in  S.     The  5th 
and  later  eds.  have  "bannes"  or  "bans." 

879.  Poinfst.  Appointest;  but  not  to  be  printed  "'point'st,"  as  by 
some  editors.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  p.  148. 

884.  Temperance.     Chastity.     Cf.  A.  and  C.  p.  201. 

892.  Smoothing.  Flattering.  See  Rich.  III.  p.  188.  The  5th  and  fol- 
lowing eels,  have  "smothering." 

899.  Sort.     Sort  out,  select.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  144. 

914.  Appaid.     Satisfied  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

920.  Shift.  Trickery.  Nares  (s.  v.  Shifter]  quotes  Rich  Cabinet  fur- 
nisJiedwith  Varietie  of  Excellent  Descriptions,  1616  :  "  Shifting  doth  many 
times  incurre  the  inclignitie  of  reproach,  and  to  be  counted  a  shifter  is  as 
if  a  man  would  say  in  plaine  tearmes  a  coosener."  Cf.  930  below, 

925.  Copesmate.     Companion  ;  used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

926.  Grisly.     Grim,  terrible.     Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  p.  145. 

928.  Watch  of  woes.  "  Divided  and  marked  only  by  woes"  (Schmidt). 
Cf.  Matb.  p.  187,  note  on  Whose  howl's  his  watch. 

930.  Injurious,  shifting.  St.,  D.,  and  H.  adopt  Walker's  conjecture  of 
"injurious-shifting  ;"  but  shifting  may  be  —cozening,  deceitful.  See  oi« 
920  just  above. 

936.  Fine.  Explained  by  Malone  as  —soften,  refine,  and  by  Steevens 
as  =  bring  to  an  end.  The  latter  is  on  the  whole  to  be  preferred. 

943.  Wrong  the  wronger.    That  is,  treat  him  as  he  treats  others,  make 
him  suffer.     Farmer  would  read  "  wring  "  for  wrong. 

944.  Ruinate.     Cf.  So  tin.  10.  7  :   "  Seeking  that  beauteous  roof  to  ruin- 
ate," etc. 

With  thy  hours.  Steevens  conjectures  "with  their  bowers,"  and  Ma- 
lone was  at  first  inclined  to  read  "with  his  hours." 

948.  To  blot  old  books  and  alter  their  contents.^  As  Malone  remarks,  S. 
little  thought  how  the  fate  of  his  own  compositions  would  come  to  illus- 
trate this  line. 

950.  Cherish  springs.  That  is,  young  shoots.  Cf.  V.andA.  656.  Warb. 
wanted  to  read  "tarish"  (-dry  up,  from  Fr.  tarir) ;  Heath  conjectured 
"sere  its;"  and  Johnson  "perish." 

953.  Beldam.     Grandmother  ;  as  in  1458  below. 

962.  Retiring.     Returning  ;  as  in  T:  and  C.  i.  3.  281,  etc. 

981.  Curled  hair.  "  A  distinguishing  characteristic  of  a  person  of 
rank"  (Malone).  Cf.  Oth.  p.  160,  note  on  Curled. 

13 


I92  NOTES. 

985.  Orfs.  Scraps,  remnants.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  v.  2.  158  and  T.  of  A.  iv. 
3.  400. 

993.  Unrecalling.  Not  to  be  recalled.  See  Gr.  372.  For  crime,  the 
4th  and  following'eds.  have  "time." 

1001.  Slanderous.  Disgraceful;  as  in  J.  C.  iv.  i.  20:  "To  ease  our- 
selves of  divers  slanderous  loads."  The  office  of  executioner,  or  deaths- 
man  (cf.  Lear,  p.  248),  was  regarded  as  ignominious. 

1016.  Out.     The  4th  and  following  eds.  have  "  Our." 

1021.  Force  not.     Regard  not,  care  not  for.     See  L.  L.  L.  p.  161. 

1024.  Uncheerful.     The  4th  and  later  eds.  have  "unsearchfull." 

1027.  Helpless.    Unavailing;  as  in  1056  below.    See  on  V.and A.  604. 

1035.  Afeard.     Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  afraid. 

1045.  Mean.     For  the  singular,  see  R.  and  J.  p.  189. 

1062.  Graff.  Graft.  All  the  early  eds.  except  the  1st  and  2d  have 
"grasse." 

1070.  With  my  trespass  never  will  dispense.  That  is,  will  never  excuse 
it.  Cf.  1279  and  1704  below.  See  C.  of  E.  p.  117,  note  on  103. 

1079.  Philomel.     The  nightingale.     Cf.  1128  below. 

1084.  Cloudy.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  725.  See  also  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  180,  note  on 
Cloudy  men.  For  shames  =  \s  ashamed,  cf.  1143  below. 

1092.  Nought  to  do.     That  is,  nothing  to  do  with,  no  concern  in. 

1094.  Fond.     Foolish  ;  as  in  216  above. 

1105.  Sometime.  The  4th  and  following  eds.  have  "sometimes."  The 
two  forms  are  used  indiscriminately. 

1109.  Annoy.     See  on  V.  and  A.  497. 

1114.  Ken.  Sight.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.\\\.  2.  113:  "losing  ken  of  Al- 
bion's wished  coast,"  etc. 

1119.  Who.     See  on  388  above. 

1124.  Stops.  Referring  to  the  stops  of  musical  instruments.  Cf.  Ham. 
iii.  2.  76,  376,  381,  etc. 

1 126.  Relish  your  nimble,  notes  to  pleasing  ears.     Tune  your  lively  notes 
for  those  who  like  to  hear  them.     With  pleasing  cf.  imrecalling  in  993 
above. 

1127.  Dumps.     Mournful  elegies.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  85  :   "Tune  a 
deploring  dump."     See  also  Much  Ado,  p.  137. 

1128.  Of  ravishment.     Referring   to   her  being  ravished  by  Tereus. 
See  T.  A.  ii.  4.  26  fol.  and  iv.  I.  48  fol. 

1 132.  Diapason.     Used  by  S.  only  here. 

1133.  Burden-wise.     As  in  the  burden  of  a  song. 

1 134.  Descanfst.    Singest.    For  the  noun,  see  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  125.     Here 
the  early  eds.  all  have  "descants."   See  Gr.  340.   Skill  must  be  regarded 
as  the  direct  object  of  descant' st,  not  governed  by  with  understood,  as 
Malone  makes  it,  pointing  "descant'st,  better  skill." 

1  !35-  -Against  a  thorn.  The  nightingale  was  supposed  to  press  her 
breast  against  a  thorn  while  singing.  See  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  p.  179, 
note  on  25. 

1 140.  Frets.  The  stops  that  regulated  the  vibration  of  the  strings  in 
lutes,  etc.  See  Ham.  p.  230,  or  Much  Ado,  p.  144  (on  A  lute-string}. 

1142.  And  for.     And  because. 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  !93 

1143.  Shaming.     Being  ashamed  ;  as  in  1084  above. 

1144.  Seated  from  the  way.     Situated  out  of  the  way. 
1149.  At  gaze.     Staring  about. 

1 1 60.  Conclusion.     Experiment     Cf.  A.  and  C.  p.  217. 

1167.  PeeFd.  Here  and  in  1169  the  early  eds.  have  "pil'd,"  "pild," 
or  "  pil I'd  ;"  and  this  last  form  might  well  enough  be  retained.  Cf.  Gen. 
xxx.  37,  38.  . 

1186.  Deprive.     Take  away  ;  as  in  1752  below.     See  Ham.  p.  195. 

1202.  Confound.     Ruin;  as  in  1 60  above. 

1205.  Oversee.     The  overseer  of  a  will  was  one  who  had  a  supervision 
of  the  executors.     The  poet,  in  his  will,  appoints  John  Hall  and  his  wife 
as  executors,  and  Thomas  Russel  and  Francis  Collins  as  overseers.  In  some 
old  wills  the  term  overseer  is  used  instead  of  executor  (Malone). 

1206.  Overseen.     Bewitched,  as  by  the  "evil  eye."     Cf.  overlooked  in 
M.  W.  v.  5.  87  and  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  15  (see  our  ed.  p.  148). 

1221.  Sorts.    Adapts,  as  if  choosing  or  selecting.    Cf.  899  above.    See 
also  2  Hen.  VI.  p.  162. 

1222.  For  why.     Because  ;  as  in  P.  P.  5.  8,  10,  etc.     See  T.  G.  of  V. 
p.  139,  or  Gr.  75. 

1229.  Eyne.     See  on  643  above. 

1233.  Pretty.  In  this  and  similar  expressions  pretty  may  be  explained 
as —"moderately  great"  (Schmidt),  or  "suitable,  sufficient,"  as  some 
make  it.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  \.  3.  10  :  "  a  pretty  age,"  etc. 

1241.  And  therefore  are  they,  etc.     "  Hence  do  they  (women)  receive 
whatever  impression  their  marble-hearted  associates    ( men )  choose " 
(Malone). 

1242.  Strange  kinds.     Alien  or  foreign  natures. 

1244.  Then  call  them  not,  etc.     Malone  compares  T.  N.  ii.  2.  30  : 

"  How  easy  is  it  for  the  proper-false 
In  women's  waxen  hearts  to  set  their  forms! 
Alas,  our  frailty  is  the  cause,  not  we, 
For  such  as  we  are  made  of,  such  we  be ;" 

and  M.for  M.  ii.  4.  130  : 

"  Women  !     Help  Heaven  !  men  their  creation  mar 
In  profiting  by  them.     Nay,  call  us  ten  times  frail, 
For  we  are  soft  as  our  complexions  are, 
And  credulous  to  false  prints." 

1247.  Like  a  goodly.  The  5th  and  6th  eds.  have  simply  "like  a,"  and 
the  7th  reads  "  like  unto  a." 

1254.  No  man  inveigh.  Let  no  man  inveigh.  All  the  eds.  but  the 
ist  have  "  inveighs." 

1257.  Hild.     For  held,  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme.     The  $th  and  later 
eds.  have  "held."     Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  iv.  ii.  17  : 

"  How  can  they  all  in  this  so  narrow  verse 
Contayned  be,  and  in  small  compasse  hild  ? 
Let  them  record  them  that  are  better  skild,"  etc. 

1258.  Fulfiird.     Filled  full.     See  T.  and  C.  p.  162. 
1261.  Precedent.     Example,  illustration. 

1263.  Present.     Instant;  as  in  1307  below. 


.I94  NOTES. 

1269.  Counterfeit.  Likeness,  image;  as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  115,  Macb. 
ii.  3.  81,  etc. 

1279.  With  the  fault  I  thus  far  can  dispense.     See  on  1070  above. 

1298.  Conceit.     Conception,  thought ;  as  in  701  above. 

1302.  Inventions.  Elsewhere  used  of  thoughts  expressed  in  writing ; 
as  in  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  3.  29,  34,  T.  N.  v.  I.  341,  etc. 

1325.  Interprets.  The  figure  here  is  taken  from  the  old  motion,  or 
dumb-show,  which  was  explained  by  an  interpreter.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  p.  135, 
(note  on  35),  or  Ham.  p.  228  (on  228). 

1329.  Sotinds.  That  is,  waters  (which  may  be  deep,  though  not  fath- 
omless). Malone  conjectured  "floods." 

1335.  Fowls.  The  6th  and  7th  eds.  have  "soules  ;"  an  easy  misprint 
when  the  long  s  was  in  fashion. 

1338.  Villain.     Servant,  bondman.     Cf.  Lear,  p.  232. 

1345.  God  wot.  God  knows.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  ii.  3.  18  :  "  no,  no,  good 
friends,  God  wot."  See  our  ed.  p.  203. 

1353.  That.     So  that ;  as  in  94  above. 

1355.  Wistly.     Wistfully.     See  on  V.  and  A.  343. 

1357,  1358.  Note  the  imperfect  rhyme. 

1368.  71ie  which.     Referring  to  Troy. 

1370.  Cloud-kissing  Ilion.      Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  220  :    "  Yond  towers 
whose  wanton  tops  do  buss  the  clouds,"  etc. 

1371.  Conceited.      Fanciful,  imaginative.     Cf.   W.  T.  iv.  4.  204:    "an 
admirable  conceited  fellow ;"  L.  C.  16:   "conceited  characters,"  etc. 

1372.  As.     That.     Gr.  109. 

1377.  Strife.  That  is,  "his  art  with  nature's  workmanship  at  strife" 
(V.andA.  291).  Cf.  T.  of  A.  \.  I.  37.. 

1380.  Pioneer.  The  early  eds.  have  "  pyoner  "  or  "  pioner."  See 
Ham.  p.  198.  Here  the  rhyme  requires  pioneer. 

1384.  Lust.     Pleasure.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  p.  200,  note  on  132. 

1388.  Triumphing.  Accented  on  the  second  syllable  ;  as  often.  See 
L.  L.  L.  p.  148. 

1400.  Deep  regard  and  smiling  government.  "  Profound  wisdom  and 
the  complacency  arising  from  the  passions  being  under  the  command  of 
reason"  (Malone);  or  deep  thought  and  complacent  self-control.  For 
deep  regard,  cf.  277  above. 

1407.  PurFd.    "  Curl'd  "  (Steevens's  conjecture) ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

1411.  Mermaid.     Siren.     See  on  V.  and  A.  429. 

1417.  Bollen.      Swollen  ;    used   by  S.  nowhere   else.      Cf.  Chaucer, 
Black  Knight,  101  :  "  Bollen  hertes,"  etc.     The  later  form  boiled  occurs 
in  Exod.  ix.  31. 

1418.  Pelt.     Probably  =throw  out  angry  words,  be  passionately  clam- 
orous;  as  Malone,  Nares,  and  Schmidt  explain  it.     Cf.  Wits,  Fits,  and 
Fancies:  "all  in  a  pelting  chafe,"  etc.     The  noun  is  also  sometimes  = 
a  great  rage ;  as  in  The  Unnatural  Brother :  "  which  put  her  ladyship 
into  a  horrid  pelt,"  etc. 

1422.  Imaginary.     Imaginative  ;  as  in  Sonn.  27.  9  :   "my  soul's  imag- 
inary sight,"  etc. 

1423.  Kind.     Natural.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  118. 


THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE.  ^ 

1436.  Strand,  All  the  early  eds.  have  "  strond."  See  I  Hen.  IV. 
P-  139- 

1440.  Than.  The  old  form  of  then,  sometimes  found  in  the  early  eds. 
(as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  2.  200,  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.  9,  etc.),  here  used  for  the  sake 
of  the  rhyme. 

1444.  StelPd.  Spelled  "steld"  in  all  the  early  eds.,  and  probably  = 
placed,  fixed.  Cf.  Sonn.  24.  I  : 

"  Mine  eye  hath  play'd  the  painter,  and  hath  stell'd 

Thy  beauty's  form  in  table  of  my  heart." 

See  our  ed.  p.  137.  In  Lear,  iii.  7.  61,  we  find  "the  stelled  fires,"  where 
s felled  is  commonly  explained  as  derived  from  stella,  though  probably 
=  fixed,  as  here.  K.  and  H.  suspect  that  stelTd  is  "simply  a  poetical 
form  of  styled,  that  is,  written  or  depicted  as  with  a  stilus  or  stylus" 

1449.  Bleeding  under  Pyrrhus'  proud  foot.     Cf.  Ham.  ii.  2.  474  fol. 

1450.  Anatomized.     "Laid  open,  shown  distinctly"  (Schmidt).     Cf. 
A.  Y.  L.  i.  i.  162,  ii.  7.  56,  A.  W.  iv.  3.  37,  etc. 

1452.  Chaps.  Spelled  "chops  "in  all  the  early  eds.  except  the  7th. 
Cf.  chopt  or  chopped  in  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  4.  50,  2  Hen.  IV,  iii.  2.  294,  etc.,  and 
choppy  in  -Macb.  i.  3.  44. 

1460.  Ban-     Curse;  as  in  V.  and  A.  326. 

1479.  Aloe.     More.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  176. 

1486.  Swounds.  Swoons.  All  the  early  eds.  have  "sounds,"  as  the 
word  was  often  spelled. 

1488.  Unadvised.     Unintentional,  inadvertent.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  149. 

1489.  Confounds.     Destroys,     See  on  160  above. 
1494.  On  ringing.     A-ringing.     See  Gr.  180.     His  =  \\.s. 
1496.  Set  a-work.     See  Ham.  p.  21 1,  or  Gr.  24. 

1499.  Painting.    All  the  early  eds.  except  the  1st  and  2d  have  "  painted." 

1500.  Who.     The  reading  of  all  the  early  eds.  changed  in  some  mod- 
ern ones  to  "•  whom."     See  Gr.  274. 

1504.  Blunt.    Rude,  rough.    The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "  these  blunt." 

1505.  His  woes.     "That  is,  the  woes  suffered  by  Patience."  (Malone). 
Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  4.  117  and  Per.  v.  i.  139. 

1507.  The  harmless  show.     "The  harmless  painted  figure"  (Malone). 
1511.  Guilty  instance.     Token  or  evidence  of  guilt.     For  instance,  see 
Much  Ado,  p.  135. 

1521.  Sinon.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  190  and  Cymb.  iii.  4.  61. 

1524.  That.     So  that.     See  ori  94  above. 

1525.  Stars  shot  from  their  fixed  places.    Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  153  :  "And 
certain  stars  shot  madly  from  their  spheres." 

1526.  Their  gf ass,  etc.     "Why  Priam's  palace,  however  beautiful  or 
magnificent,  should  be  called  the  mirror  in  which  the  fixed  stars  beheld 
themselves,  I  do  not  see.     The  image  is  very  quaint  and  far-fetched" 
(Malone).     Boswell  cites  what  Lydgate  says  of  Priam's  palace: 

"That  verely  when  so  the  sonne  shone 
Upon  the  golde  meynt  among  the  stone, 
They  gave  a  lyght  withouten  any  were, 
As  doth  Apollo  in  his  mid-day  sphere." 

1527.  Advisedly.     Deliberately,  attentively. 


IQ6  NOTES. 

1544.  Beguird.  Rendered  deceptive  or  guileful.  CLguiled  in  M.  of 
V.  iii.  2.  97  ;  and  see  Gr.  374.  The  early  eds.  have  "  armed  to  beguild  " 
(or  "beguil'd");  corrected  by  Malone. 

1551.  Falls.     Lets  fall.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  184,  or  J.  C.  p.  175. 

1555.  Effects.  Outward  manifestations  or  attributes.  Cf.  Lear,  p.  171. 
Some  make  it  =  efficacies,  powers,  or  faculties. 

1565.  Unhappy.  Mischievous,  fatal,  pernicious;  as  in  C.  of  E.  iv.  4. 
127,  Lear,  iv.  6.  232,  etc. 

1576.  Which  all  this  time.  This  (namely,  time)  has  passed  unheeded 
by  her  during  this  interval  that  she  has  spent  with  painted  images ;  or 
which  may  perhaps  refer  to  the  slow  passage  of  time  just  mentioned,  and 
the  meaning  may  be,  This  she  has  forgotten  all  the  while  that  she  has 
been  looking  at  the  pictures.  H.  says ;  "  Which  refers  to  time  in  the 
preceding  stanza,  and  is  the  object  of  spent:  Which  that  she  hath 
spent  with  painted  images,  it  hath  all  this  time  overslipped  her  thought." 
This  seems  needlessly  awkward  and  involved. 

1588.  Water-galls.     The  word  is  evidently  used  here  simply  as  =rahi- 
bows,  to  avoid  the  repetition  of  that  word.     Nares  and  Wb.  define  it  as 
"a  watery  appearance  in  the  sky,  accompanying  the  rainbow;"  accord- 
ing to  others,  it  means  the  "secondary  bow"  of  the  rainbow  (which  H. 
speaks  of  as  being  "within"  the   primary  bow).     Halliwell   (Archaic 
Diet.}  says :  "  I  am  told  a  second  rainbow  above  the  first  is  called  in 
the  Isle  of  Wight  a  ivatergeal.     Carr  has  weather-gall,  a  secondary  or 
broken  rainbow." 

For  element =$ky,  see  J.  C.  p.  140. 

1589.  To.     In  addition  to.     Gr.  185. 

1592.  Sod.  The  participle  of  seethe,  used  interchangeably  with  sodden. 
See  L.  L.  L.  p.  145. 

1595.  Both.    The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "But" 

1598.  Uncouth.  Strange  (literally,  unknown).  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  6.  6: 
"this  uncouth  forest,"  etc. 

1600.  Attired  in  discontent.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  iv.  I.  146:  "so  attir'd  in 
wonder,"  etc. 

1604.  Gives  her  sorrow  fire.  The  metaphor  is  taken  from  the  discharge 
of  the  old-fashioned  fire-lock  musket.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  4.  38  :  "  for  you 
gave  the  fire." 

1606.  Addressed.     Prepared,  ready.     See  J.  C.  p.  156. 

1615.  Moe.  The  reading  of  the  first  three  eds. ;  "more"  in  the  rest. 
See  on  1479  above. 

1632.  Hard-favour1  d.     See  on  V.  and  A.  133. 

1645.  Adulterate.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  142,  Ham.  \.  5.  42,  etc. 

1661.  Declined.     All  the  eds.  except  the  1st  have  "inclin'd." 

1662.  Wretched.     Walker  plausibly  conjectures  "  wreathed."     Cf.  T. 
G.  of  V.  ii.  i.  19  :  "to  wreathe  your  arms." 

1667.  As  through  an  arch,  etc.  Doubtless  suggested  by  the  tide  rush- 
ing through  the  arches  of  Old  London  Bridge.  See  Cor.  p.  271  (note  on 
47)  and  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  29,  foot-note. 

1671.  Recall"1  d  in  rage,  etc.  Farmer  wished  to  read  "  recali'd,  the  rage 
being  past." 


THE  RAPE   OF  LUCRECE.  ,97 

1672.  Make  a  saw.  The  metaphor  is  quaint,  but  readily  understood 
from  the  context.  The  noun  saw  is  used  by  S.  nowhere  else,  though 
handsaw  occurs  in  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  187  and  Ham.  ii.  2.  397. 

1680.  One  woe.  The  ist  and  2d  eds.  have  "on"  for  one,  a  common 
spelling.  Cf.  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  p.  164,  note  on  70. 

1691.   Venge.     Not  Avenge,  as  often  printed.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  158. 

1694.  Knights,  by  their  oaths,  etc.  Mai  one  remarks  :  "  Here  one  of  the 
laws  of  chivalry  is  somewhat  prematurely  introduced."  See  T.  and  C. 
p.  174,  note  on  283. 

1698.  Bewray 'd.     Exposed,  made  known.     Cf.  Lear,  p.  199. 

1704.  With  the  foul  act  dispense.     See  on  1070  above. 

1705.  Advance.     Raise;    opposed  to  low-declined.     For  advance  =  \\h 
up,  see  Cor.  p.  210. 

1713.  Carved  in  it.  All  the  early  eds.  have  "it  in"  for  in  it,  except 
the  7th,  which  omits  //.  The  correction  is  Malone's. 

1715.  By  my  excuse,  etc.  Livy  makes  Lucretia  say:  "Ego  me,  etsi 
peccato  absolve,  supplicio  non  libero ;  nee  ulla  deinde  impudica  exem- 
plo  Lucretiae  vivet ;"  which  Painter,  in  his  novel  (see  p.  16  above) 
translates  thus  :  "  As  for  my  part,  though  I  cleare  my  selfe  of  the  offence, 
my  body  shall  feel  the  punishment,  for  no  unchaste  or  ill  woman  shall 
hereafter  impute  no  dishonest  act  to  Lucrece." 

1720.  Assays.     Attempts  ;  as  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  406,  Ham.  iii.  3.  69,  etc. 

1728.  Spright.     See  on  121  above. 

1730.  Astonished.  Astounded,  thunderstruck.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  v.  I. 
146,  etc. 

1738.  That.     So  that;  as  in  1764  below.     See  on  94  above. 

1740.  Vastly.  "Like  a  waste"  (Steevens)  ;  the  only  instance  of  the 
word  in  S. 

1745.  Rigol.     Circle.     See  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  193. 

1752.  Deprived.     Taken  away;  as  in  1186  above. 

1754.  Unlived.  Probably  the  poet's  own  coinage,  and  used  by  him 
only  here. 

1760.  Fair  fresh.     D.  reads  "fresh  fair,"  and  St.  and  H.  "fresh-fair." 

1765.  Last.     All  the  early  eds.  but  the  ist  and  2d  have  "hast,"  and 
in  the  next  line  "  thou  "  for  they. 

1766.  Surcease.     Cease  ;  as  in  Cor.  iii.  2.  121  and  R.  and  J.  iv.  I.  97. 
1774.  Key-cold.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  2.  5  :  "  Poor  key-cold  figure  of  a  holy 

king  ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  183. 

1784.  Thick.  Fast.  Cf.  thick-coming\\\  Macb.  v.  3. 38.  See  also  Cymb. 
p.  189,  note  on  Speak  thick. 

1788.  This  windy  tempest,  etc.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  p.  198  (note  on  55),  or 
3 'Hen.  VI.  p.  146  (note  on  146). 

1801.  Too  late.  Too  lately.  Cf.  426  above  and  V.  and  A.  1026.  See 
also  Rich.  III.  p.  209. 

1803.  /  owed  her.  She  was  mine.  For  owe  =  own,  see  Rich.  II.  p. 
204,  or  K.  John,  p.  141. 

1805.  Disperii.     For  the  accent,  see  on  26  above. 

1816.  Advisedly.    Deliberately.    Cf.  180  and  1527  above. 
deliberate,  in  1849  below. 


198  NOTES. 

1819.  Unsounded.  Not  sounded  or  understood  hitherto.  Cf.  2  Hen. 
VI.  iii.  I.  57. 

1822.  Wounds  help.  Walker  would  read  "  heal "  and  St.  "  salve  "  for 
help. 

1829.  Relenting.     The  5th  and  later  eds.  have  "lamenting." 

1832.  Suffer  these  abominations,  etc.  That  is,  permit  these  abominable 
Tarquins  to  be  chased,  etc. 

1839.  Complained.  Bewailed.  For  the  transitive  use,  cf.  Rich.  II. 
p.  197.  Gr.  291. 

1845.  Allcnu.     Approve.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  185. 

1851.  Thorough.  Used  interchangeably  with  through.  Cf.  M.  of  V. 
p.  144,  note  on  Through/ares.  The  5th  ed.  has  "  through  out,"  and  the 
7th  "  throughout." 

1854.  Plausibly.  With  applause  or  acclamations  (Malone  and  Stee- 
vens) ;  or  "readily,  willingly"  (Schmidt).  It  is  the  only  instance  of  the 
adverb  in  S.  Plausible  occurs  only  in  M.for  M.  iii.  I.  253,  where  it  is  = 
pleased,  willing. 


A    LOVER'S    COMPLAINT. 

For  the  feminine  use  of  lover  in  the  title,  cf.  A.  Y.  L.  p.  181. 

1.  Re-worded.     Compare  Ham.  iii.  4.  143:    "I  the   matter   will   re- 
word." 

2.  Sistering.     We  find  the  verb  in  Per.  v.  prol.  7  :  "her  art  sisters  the 
natural  roses." 

3.  Spirits.     Monosyllabic ;  as  not  unfrequentiy.     Cf.  236  below ;  and 
see  on  V.andA.i'&i.     Accorded—  agreed. 

4.  Laid.     Malone  reads  "  lay,"  which  is  the  form  elsewhere  in  S. 

5.  Fickle.     Apparently  referring  to  her  behaviour  at  the  time. 

6.  A-twain.     So  in  the  folio  text  of  Lear,  ii.  2.  80,  where  the  quartos 
have  "in  twain."     In  Oth.v.  2.  206,  the  1st  quarto  has  a-twain,  the  other 
early  eds.  "  in  twain." 

7.  Her  world.     Malone  quotes  Lear,  iii.  I.  10  : 

"  Strives  in  his  little  world  of  man  to  outscorn 
The  to-and-fro-conflicting  wind  and  rain." 

See  our  ed.  p.  215. 

II.  Done.     Past,  lost.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  197,  749,  and  R.  of  L.  23. 

14.  Sear'd.     Withered.     H.  has  "  sere." 

15.  Heave  her  napkin.     Lift  her  handkerchief.     For  heave,  cf.  Cyvib. 
v.  5.  157  : 

"O,  would 

Our  viands  had  been  poison' d,  or  at  least 
Those  which  I  heav'd  to  head:" 

and  for  napkin  see  Oth.  p.  188. 

16.  Conceited  characters.     Fanciful  figures.     See  on  R.  of  L.  1371. 

17.  Laundering.     Wetting;  used  by  S.  only  here.     Malone  calls  the 
verb  "  obsolete ;"  but  it  has  come  into  use  again  in  our  day. 


33- 

"three 


A   LOVER'S  COMPLAINT.  !99 

1 8.  Seasoned.     A  favourite  figure  with  S.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  155. 
For  pelleted  (  —  rounded),  cf.  A.  and  C.  iii.  13.  165. 

21.  Size.      This  use  of  the  word  seems  peculiar  now;    but  cf.  Hen. 
VIII.  v.  i.  136,  A.  and  C.  iv.  15.  4,  v.  2.  97,  etc. 

22.  Carriage.     The  figure  is  taken  from  a  gun-carriage.     Levelled  was 
a  technical  term  for  aiming  a  gun.     See  /tovfc.  ///.  p.  232. 

30.  Careless  hand  of  pride.     That  is,  hand  of  careless  pride. 

31.  Sheatfd.     Straw.     Cf.  8  above. 

3.   Threaden.      The   word   is   used   again   in   Hen.    V.  iii.  chor.  10 : 
readen  sails." 

36.  Maund.      Hand  -  basket ;    used   by    S.  only   here.     Cf.  Dray  ton, 
Polyolbion,  xiii. : 

"  And  in  a  little  maund,  being  made  of  oziers  small, 
Which  serveth  him  to  do  full  many  a  thing  withall, 
He  very  choicely  sorts  his  simples  got  abroad;" 

Herrick,  Poems:  "With  maunds  of  roses  for  to  strew  the  way,"  etc. 
Hence  Maundy  Thursday,  from  the  baskets  in  which  the  royal  alms 
were  distributed  at  Whitehall. 

37.  Beaded.     The  quarto  (the  1609  ed.  of  Sonnets,  in  which  the  poem 
first  appears)  has  "bedded;"  corrected  by  Sewell.     K.  retains  "bed- 
ded" as  ^imbedded,  set. 

40.  Applying  wet  to  wet.  A  favourite  conceit  with  S.  See  A.  Y.  L.  ii. 
I.  48,  R.  and  J.  \.  I.  138,  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  4.  8,  Ham.  iv.  7.  186,  etc. 

42.  Cries  some.  Cries  for  some.  Malone  puts  some  in  italics  ( —  "  cries 
*  Some ' "). 

45.  Posted.  Inscribed  with  posies,  or  mottoes.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  p.  164. 
Rings  were  often  made  of  bo?te  and  ivory. 

47.  Moe.     More.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1479. 

48.  Sleided.     Untwisted  or  unwrought.     Cf.  Pericles,  p.  149.     Feat  — 
featly,  dexterously.     See  Temp.  p.  120. 

49.  Curious.     Careful ;  as  in  A.  W.  i.  2.  20,  Cymb.  i.  6.  191,  etc. 

50.  Fluxive.     Flowing,  weeping;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

51.  Gan.     The  quarto  has  "gaue,"  which  K.  retains  (as  "gave"); 
corrected  by  Malone. 

53.  Unapproved.  Not  approved,  or  proved  true.  Cf.  Hum.  p.  171, 
note  on  Approve. 

55.  In  top  of  rage.  Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  7. 4  :  "  in  tops  of  all  their  pride  ;" 
A.  and  C.  v.  i.  43  :  "  in  top  of  all  design,"  etc. 

Rents- rends.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  166. 

58.  Sometime.  Formerly  ;  used  interchangeably  with  sometimes  in  this 
sense.  Gr.  68#.  .AV^f<?= bustle,  stir  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  S. 

60.  The  s^v^ftest  hours.  "  The  prime  of  life,  when  Time  appears  to 
move  with  his  quickest  pace  "  (Malone).  They,  according  to  Malone,  re- 
fers to  the  fragments  of  the  torn-up  letters ;  though  he  admits  that  the 
clause  may  be  connected  with  hours,  meaning  that  "this  reverend  man, 
though  engaged  in  the  bustle  of  court  and  city,  had  not  suffered  the  busy 
and  gay  period  of  youth  to  pass  by  without  gaining  some  knowledge  of 
the  world."  This  latter  explanation  is  doubtless  the  correct  one. 


200  NOTES. 

61.  Fancy.  Often  =love  (see  on  R.  of  L.  200),  and  here  used  concretely 
for  the  lover,  tf.  197  below.  Fastly  is  used  by  S.  only  here. 

64.  Slides  he  down,  etc.  That  is,  lets  himself  down  by  the  aid  of  his 
staff,  as  he  seats  himself  beside  her.  Grained=vi  rough  wood,  or  show- 
ing the  grain  of  the  wood.  Cf.  Cor.  iv.  5.  114:  "My  grained  ash" 
(=  spear). 

69.  Ecstasy.     Passion,  excitement.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  895. 

80.  Outwards.     External  features ;    not  elsewhere  plural  in  S.     For 
0/"the  quarto  has  "O;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  conjecture  of  Tyr- 
whitt). 

81.  Stuck.     Cf.  M.for  M.  iv.  I.  61 : 

"O  place  and  greatness!    millions  of  false  eyes 
Are  stuck  upon  thee." 

88.  What  Js  sweet  to  do,  etc.  "  Things  pleasant  to  be  done  will  easily 
find  people  enough  to  do  them  "  (Steevens). 

91.  Sawn.  Explained  by  some  as  a  form  of  the  participle  of  see,  used 
for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme;  by  others  as  —sown,  which  Boswell  says  is 
still  pronounced  sawn  in  Scotland.  The  latter  is  the  more  probable. 

93.  Phoenix.  Explained  by  Malone  and  Schmidt  as  ="  matchless, 
rare."  So  termless= indescribable. 

95.  Bare.     Bareness  ;  not  elsewhere  used  substantively  by  S. 

104.  Authorized.  Accented  on  the  second  syllable ;  as  in  the  other 
two  instances  in  which  S.  uses  the  word  (Sonn.  35.  6  and  Macb.  iii.  4,  66). 

107.  That  horse,  etc.  H.  does  not  include  this  line  in  the  supposed 
comment. 

112.  Manage.     See  on  the  verb  in  V.  and  A.  598. 

116.  Case.     Dress  ;  as  in  M.for  M.  ii.  4.  13,  etc. 

118.  Came.  The  quarto  has  "Can;"  corrected  by  Sewell.  K.  re- 
tains "  Can." 

126.  Catching  all  passions,  etc.     Steevens  says  :  "These  lines,  in  which 
our  poet  has  accidentally  delineated  his  own  character,  would  have  been 
better  adapted  to  his  monumental  inscription  than  such  as  are  placed  on 
the  scroll  in  Westminster  Abbey." 

127.  That.     So  that.     See  on  V.  and  A.  242. 

139.  Moe.     Cf.  47  above. 

140.  Owe.     Own.     See  on  R.  of  L.  1803. 

144.  Was  my  own  fee-simple.  "  Had  an  absolute  power  over  myself" 
(Malone).  See  A.  W.  p.  171. 

153.  Foil.  The  background  used  to  set  off  a  jewel.  Cf.  Rich.  I  IT. 
p.  242. 

155.  Assay.     Essay,  try.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  608. 

162.  Blood.     Passion.     Cf.  Much  Ado,  p.  131,  note  on  162. 

163.  Proof.     Experience.     Cf.  Much  Ado,  p.  131. 

169.  Further.     St.  conjectures  "father." 

170.  The  patterns  of  his  fond  begtiiling.     "The  examples  of  his  seduc- 
tion" (Malone). 

171.  Orchards.     Gardens.     See  J.  C.  p.  142.     For  the  figure,  cf.  Sonn, 
16.  6. 


A   LOVER'S  COMPLAINT. 


201 


173.  Brokers.     Panders,  go-betweens.     Cf.  Ham.  p.  191. 

174.  Thought.     Malone  took  this  to  be  a  noun. 

176.  My  city.     For  the  figure,  cf.  R.  of  L.  469  (see  also  1547),  A.  W.  i. 

1.  137,  etc. 

182.  Woo.     The  quarto  has  "vow;"  corrected  by  D. 

185.  Acture.    Action  ;  not  found  elsewhere.    Cf.  enactures  in  Ham.  iii. 

2.  207. 

Malone  paraphrases  the  passage  thus :  "  My  illicit  amours  were  merely 
the  effect  of  constitution  [or  animal  passion],  and  not  approved  by  my 
reason :  pure  and  genuine  love  had  no  share  in  them,  or  in  their  conse- 
quences; for  the  mere  congress  of  the  sexes  may  produce  such  fruits, 
without  the  affections  of  the  parties  being  at  all  engaged." 

192.  Teen.     Trouble,  pain.     See  on  V.  and  A.  808. 

193.  Leisures.     Moments  of  leisure.     Schmidt  makes  it  ="  affections, 
inclinations,"  which  it  implies. 

197.  Fancies.     See  on  61  above. 

198.  Paled.     The  quarto  has   "palyd,"  and  Sewell  reads   "pallid." 
Paled  is  due  to  Malone. 

204.  These  talents,  etc.     "These  lockets,  consisting  of  hair  platted  and 
set  \\\gold"  (Malone). 

205.  Impleach'd.    Interwoven.    £L  pleached  in  Much  Ado,  iii.  i.  7,  and 
thick-pleached  in  Id.  i.  2.  8  (see  our  ed.  p.  126). 

207.  Beseech1  d.     Cf.  the  past  tense  in  Ham.  iii.  i.  22. 

208.  Annexiotis.     Additions  ;  used  by  S.  only  here,  as  annexment  only 
in  Ham.  iii.  3.  21. 

210.  Quality.  "  In  the  age  of  S.  peculiar  virtues  were  imputed  to  ev- 
ery species  of  precious  stone  "  (Steevens). 

212.  Invis^d.  "  Invisible  "  (Malone) ;  or,  "perhaps'=inspected,  inves- 
tigated, tried"  (Schmidt).  No  other  example  of  the  word  is  known. 

214.  Weak  sights,  etc.     Eye-glasses  of  emerald  were  much  esteemed 
by  the  ancients ;  and  the  near-sighted  Nero  is  said  to  have  used  them  in 
watching  the  shows  of  gladiators. 

215.  Blend.     Walker  makes  this  a  participle  =blended.     He  adds: 
"The  expression  is  perhaps  somewhat  confused,  but  it  refers  to  the 
ever-varying  hue  of  the  opal." 

217.  Blazon" d.  Interpreted,  explained.  Cf.  the  noun  in  Much  Ado, 
ii.  i.  307. 

219.  Pensitfd.  Found  only  here.  Pensive  occurs  in  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  I. 
10  and  R.  and  J.  iv.  i.  39.  H.  adopts  Lettsom's  conjecture  of"  pensive  " 
here;  but  the  "pensiu'd"  of  the  quarto  could  hardly  be  a  misprint. 

223.  Offeree.     Perforce,  of  necessity.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  i.  I.  148,  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  2.  40,  etc. 

224.  Enpatron  me.     Are  my  patron  saint. 

225.  Phraseless.     Probably  ==  indescribable,  like  termless  in  94  above. 
Schmidt  thinks  it  may  possibly  be  ^silent,  like  speechless  (hand)  in  Cor. 
v.  i.  67. 

229.  What  me,  etc.     Whatever  obeys  me,  your  minister,  for  (or  instead 
of)  you,  etc. 
231.  Distract.    Disjoined,  separate.   For  the  accent,  see  on  R.  of  L.  26. 


202  NOTES. 

232.  A  sister.     The  quarto  has  <J  Or  sister  ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

233.  Note.    Notoriety,  distinction.    Cf.  Cymb.  p.  170,  on  A  crescent  note. 

234.  Which  late,  etc.     Who  lately  withdrew  from  her  noble  suitors. 

235.  Whose  rarest  havings,  etc.     "Whose  accomplishments  were  so 
extraordinary  that  the  flower  of  the  young  nobility  were  passionately 
enamoured  of  her"  (Malone). 

236.  Spirits.     Monosyllabic,  as  in  3  above.      Coat  may  be  =coat-of- 
arms  (Malone),  or  dress  as  indicative  of  rank,  as  some  explain  it. 

240.  Have  not.     H.  adopts  Barron  Field's  conjecture  of  "  love  not ;: — 
a  needless  if  not  an  injurious  change. 

241.  Paling  the  place,  etc.     The  quarto  has  "Playing  the  place,"  etc.  ; 
for  which  no  really  satisfactory  emendation  has  been  proposed.     Paling, 
which  is  as  tolerable  as  any,  is  due  to  Malone,  who  explains  the  line 
thus :  "  Securing  within  the  pale  of  a  cloister  that  heart  which  had  never 
received  the  impression  of  love."     Lettsom  conjectures  "  Salving  the 
place  which  did  no  harm  receive."     St.  proposes  "  Filling  the  place," 
etc.     Paling  \s  adopted  by  K.,  D.,  W.,  and  H.     For  pale  —  enclose,  cf. 
A.  and  C.  ii.  7.  74,  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  4.  103,  etc. 

243.  Contrives.     Some  make  this  =  wear  away,  spend;  as  in  T.  of  S. 
\.  2.  278  (see  our  ed.  p.  141). 

250.  Eye.    The  rhyme  of  eye  and  eye  is  apparently  an  oversight,  no  mis- 
print being  probable. 

251.  Immur'd.     The  quarto  has  "enur'd"  and  "procure  ;"  both  cor- 
rected by  Gildon. 

252.  To  tempt,  all.     Most  eds.  join  all  to  tempt,  which,  to  our  thinking, 
mars  both  the  antithesis  and  the  rhythm. 

258.  Congest.     Gather  in  one  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

260.  Nun.     The  quarto  has  "  Sunne."     The  correction  was  suggested 
by  Malone,  and  first  adopted  by  D. 

261.  Ay,  dieted.     The  quarto  has  "  I  dieted,"  not  "  I  died,"  as  Malone 
(who  reads  "and  dieted")  states. 

262.  Believ'd  her  eyes,  etc.     "Believed  or  yielded  to  her  eyes  when 
they,  captivated  by  the  external  appearance  of  her  wooer,  began  to  assail 
her  chastity"  (Malone).     "  When  I  the  assail"  was  an  anonymous  con- 
jecture which  Malone  was  at  first  inclined  to  adopt. 

265.  Sting.     Stimulus,  incitement. 

271.  Love's  arms  are  proof,  etc.     Another  corrupt  and  perplexing  line. 
The  quarto  has  "  peace  "  for  proof,  which  was  suggested  by  Malone. 
Steevens  conjectures  "  Love  aims  at  peace,"  D.  "  Love  arms  our  peace," 
and  Lettsom  "Love  charms  our  peace." 

272.  And  sweetens.     And  it  (Love]  sweetens. 

273.  Aloes.     The  only  mention  of  the  bitter  drug  in  S. 
276.  Supplicant.     Not  found  elsewhere  in  S. 

279.  Credent.     Credulous.     Cf.  Ham.  i.  3.  30  :   "  too  credent  ear,"  etc. 

280.  Prefer  and  undertake .    Recommend  (cf.  M.  of  V.  p.  140)  and  guar- 
antee, or  answer  for  (see  I  Hen.  VI.  v.  3.  158,  Hen.  VI If.  prol.  12,  etc.). 

281.  Dismount.     "The  allusion  is  to  the  old  English  fire-arms,  which 
were  supported  on  what  was  called  a  rest"  (Malone).     For  leveWd— 
aimed,  see  on  22  above. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  2O3 

286.  Who  glazed  with  crystal  gate,  etc.  Malone  points  thus  :  "  Who, 
glaz'd  with  crystal,  gate  ;"  making  gate  "the  ancient  perfect  tense  of  the 
verb  to  get"  Flame  he  took  to  be  the  object  Qigate. 

293.  O  cleft  e/ect !    The  quarto  has  "  Or  "  for  O;  corrected  by  Gildon. 

294.  Extinfture.     Extinction  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

297.  Daff'd.     Doffed,  put  off.     See  A.  and  C.  p.  203,  or  Mitch  Ado,  p. 
138.     Stole  (=robe)  is  not  found  elsewhere  in  S. 

298.  Civil.     Decorous  ;  as  in  Oth.  ii.  i.  243  :  "  civil  and  humane  seem- 
ing," etc. 

303.  Cautels.     Deceits.     Cf.  Ham.  p.  187. 

305.  Swooning.     The  quarto  has   "sounding,"  and  "sound"  in  308 
below.     See  on  R.  of  L.  1486 ;  and  cf.  R.  and  J.  p.  186  (on  Swounded}. 
309.  Level.     See  on  281  above. 

314.  Luxury.     Lust,  lasciviousness ;  the  only  meaning  of  the  word  in 
S.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  p.  166. 

315.  Preach"  d  pure  maid.     Cf:  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  227  :  "speak  sad  brow 
and  true  maid." 

318.  Unexperient.     Used  by  S.  only  here,  as  unexperienced  only  in  7\ 
ofS.  iv.  i.  86. 

319.  Cherubin.     Used  by  S.  ten  times.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  p.  162.     Cherub 
he  has  only  in  Ham.  iv.  3.  50,  cherubim  not  at  all. 

327.  Owed.  That  is,  owned,  or  his  own.  See  on  140  above.  Bor- 
row" d  motion  =  counterfeit  expression  of  feeling. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM. 

Swinburne  remarks  :  "  What  Coleridge  said  of  Ben  Jonson's  epithet 
for  *  turtle-footed  peace,'  we  may  say  of  the  label  affixed  to  this  rag- 
picker's bag  of  stolen  goods  :  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  is  a  pretty  title,  a 
very  pretty  title;  pray  what  may  it  mean?  In  all  the  larcenous  little 
bundle  of  verse  there  is  neither  a  poem  which  bears  that  name  nor  a 
poem  by  which  that  name  would  be  bearable.  The  publisher  of  the 
booklet  was  like  'one  Ragozine,  a  most  notorious  pirate  ;'  and  the  meth- 
od no  less  than  the  motive  of  his  rascality  in  the  present  instance  is  pal- 
pable and  simple  enough.  Fired  by  the  immediate  and  instantly  prover- 
bial popularity  of  Shakespeare's  Venus  and  Adonis,  he  hired,  we  may 
suppose,  some  ready  hack  of  unclean  hand  to  supply  him  with  three 
doggrel  sonnets  on  the  same  subject,  noticeable  only  for  the  porcine 
quality  of  prurience ;  he  procured  by  some  means  a  rough  copy  or  an 
incorrect  transcript  of  two  genuine  and  unpublished  sonnets  by  Shake- 
speare, which  with  the  acute  instinct  of  a  felonious  tradesman  he  laid 
atop  of  his  worthless  wares  by  way  of  gilding  to  their  base  metal ;  he 
stole  from  the  two  years  published  text  of  Love's  Labour  Js  Lost,  and  re- 
produced, with  more  or  less  mutilation  or  corruption,  the  sonnet  of  Lon- 
gaville,  the  *  canzonet '  of  Biron,  and  the  far  lovelier  love-song  of  Dumain. 
The  rest  of  the  ragman's  gatherings,  with  three  most  notable  exceptions, 


204  NOTES. 

is  little  better  for  the  most  part  than  dry  rubbish  or  disgusting  refuse  ; 
unless  a  plea  may  haply  be  put  in  for  the  pretty  commonplaces  of  the 
lines  on  a  'sweet  rose,  fair  flower,'  and  so  forth;  for  the  couple  of  thin 
and  pallid  if  tender  and  tolerable  copies  of  verse  on  « Beauty  '  and  '  Good 
Night,'  or  the  passably  light  and  lively  stray  of  song  on  « crabbed  age 
and  youth.'  I  need  not  say  that  those  three  exceptions  are  the  stolen 
and  garbled  work  of  Marlowe  and  of  Barnfield,  our  elder  Shelley  and  our 
first-born  Keats  ;  the  singer  of  Cynthia  in  verse  well  worthy  of  Endymion, 
who  would  seem  to  have  died  as  a  poet  in  the  same  fatal  year  of  his  age 
that  Keats  died  as  a  man;  the  first  adequate  English  laureate  of  the 
nightingale,  to  be  supplanted  or  equalled  by  none  until  the  advent  of  his 
mightier  brother." 

The  contents  of  Jaggard's  piratical  collection,  stated  more  in  detail, 
were  as  follows  (the  order  being  that  of  the  "Globe"  ed.) : 

I.,  II.  Shakespeare's  Sonnets  138  and  144,  with  some  early  or  corrupt 
readings  (to  be  noted  in  our  ed.  of  the  Sonnets). 

III.  Longaville's  sonnet  to  Maria  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  60  fcl.  :  "  Did  not 
the  heavenly  rhetoric  of  thine  eye,"  etc.     The  verbal  variations  in  the 
two  versions  (as  in  V.  and  XVI.)  are  lew  and  slight. 

IV.  (I.  of  the  present  ed.). 

V.  The  sonnet  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  109  fol. :  "  If  love  make  me  forsworn," 
etc. 

VI.,  VII.  (II.  and  IV.  of  this  ed.). 

VIII.  The  following  sonnet,  probably  by  Richard  Barnfield,  in  whose 
Poems:  In  diners  humors,  1598  (appended,  with  a  separate  title-page,  to  a 
small  volume  containing  The  Encomion  of  Lady  Pecunia  and  The  Com- 
plaint  of  Poetrie,for  the  Death  of  Liber alitie],  it  had  first  appeared,  with 
this  heading:  "To  his  friend  Maister  R.  L.  In  praise  of  Musique  and 
Poetrie:" 

"  If  music  and  sweet  poetry  agree, 
As  they  must  needs,  the  sister  and  the  brother, 
Then  must  the  love  be  great  'twixt  thee  and  me, 
Because  thou  lov'st  the  one,  and  I  the  other. 
Dowland  to  thee  is  dear,  whose  heavenly  touch 
Upon  the  lute  doth  ravish  human  sense ; 
Spenser  to  me,  'whose  deep  conceit  is  such 
As,  passing  all  conceit,  needs  no  defence. 
Thou  lov'st  to  hear  the  sweet  melodious  sound 
That  Phoebus'  lute,  the  queen  of  music,  makes ; 
And  I  in  deep  delight  am  chiefly  drown'd 
Whenas  himself  to  singing  he  betakes. 
One  god  is  god  of  both,  as  poets  feign : 
One  knight  loves  both,  and  both  in  thee  remain." 

Barnfield  terms  these  poems  "fruits  of  unriper  years,"  and  expressly 
claims  their  authorship.  The  above  sonnet  is  the  first  in  the  collection, 
both  this  and  XX.  are  omitted  in  the  second  edition  of  Lady  Pecunia, 
1605 ;  but  so  also  are  nearly  all  of  the  "Poems  in  Divers  Humors,"  so 
that  no  substantial  argument  can  rest  upon  the  absence  of  the  two  P.  P. 
sonnets  from  that  edition  (Halliwell). 

IX.,  X.  (III.  and  V.  of  this  ed.). 

XI.  The  following  sonnet,  probably  by  Bartholomew  Griffin,  in  whose 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  205 

Fidessa  more  Chaste  than  Kinde,  1596,  it  had  appeared  with  some  varia- 
tions :* 

"Venus,  with  young  Adonis  sitting  by  her 

Under  a  myrtle  shade,  began  to  woo  him : 

She  told  the  youngling  how  god  Mars  did  try  her, 

And  as  he  fell  to  her,  so  fell  she  to  him. 

'  Even  thus,'  qupth  she,  '  the  warlike  god  embraced  me,' 

And  then  she  clipped  Adonis  in  her  arms ; 

'Even  thus,'  quoth  she,  'the  warlike  god  unlac'd  me,' 

As  if  the  boy  should  use  like  loving  charms; 

'Even  thus,'  quoth  she,  'he  seized  on  my  lips,' 

And  with  her  lips  on  his  did  act  the  seizure : 

And  as  she  fetched  breath,  away  he  skips, 

And  would  not  take  her  meaning  nor  her  pleasure. 
Ah,  that  I  had  my  lady  at  this  bay, 
To  kiss  and  clip  me  till  I  run  away!" 

XII.,  XIII.,  XIV.  (VI.,  Vll.,  and  VIII.  of  this  ed.). 

XV.  Here  begin  the  "Sonnets  to  sundry  notes  of  Musicke  "  (see  p. 
12   above)  with   the  following,  which   is   certainly  not   Shakespeare's, 
though  it  is  not  found  elsewhere  : 

"  It  was  a  lording's  daughter,  the  fairest  one  of  three, 
T^hat  liked  of  her  master  as  well  as  well  might  be, 
Till  looking  on  an  Englishman,  the  fair'st  that  eye  could  see, 

Her  fancy  fell  a-turning. 

Long  was  the  combat  doubtful  that  love  with  love  did  fight, 
To  leave  the  master  loveless,  or  kill  the  gallant  knight: 
To  put  in  practice  either,  alas,  it  was  a  spite 

Unto  the  silly  damsel! 

But  one  must  be  refused ;  more  mickle  was  the  pain 
That  nothing  could  be  used  to  turn  them  both  to  gain, 
For  of  the  two  the  trusty  knight  was  wounded  with  disdain : 

Alas,  she  could  not  help  it! 

Thus  art  with  arms  contending. was  victor  of  the  day, 
Which  by  a  gift  of  learning  did  bear  the  maid  away : 
Then,  lullaby,  the  learned  man  hath  got  the  lady  gay ; 

For  now  my  song  is  ended." 

XVI.  Dumain's  poem  to  Kate,  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  101  fol. :  "On  a  day 
— alack,  the  day  !"  etc.      The  chief  variations  are  noted  in  our  ed.  of 
L.  L.  L.  p.  149. 

XVII.  The  following,  from  Thomas  Weelkes's  Madrigals,  1597,  pretty 
certainly  not  Shakespeare's  :t 

"  My  flocks  feed  not, 
My  ewes  breed  not, 
My  rams  speed  not, 
All  is  amiss; 

*  Instead  of  lines  9-14,  the  following  are  given  in  the  Fidessa  : 
"  But  he  a  wayward  boy  refusde  her  offer, 

And  ran  away,  the  beautious  Queene  neglecting: 
Shewing  both  folly  to  abuse  her  proffer, 
And  all  his  sex  of  cowardise  detecting. 
Oh  that  I  had  my  mistris  at  that  bay, 
To  kisse  and  clippe  me  till  I  ranne  away!" 

t  Weelkes  was  the  composer  of  the  music,  but  not  necessarily  the  author  of  the  words. 
The  poem  is  found  also  in  England's  Helicon,  1600,  with  the  title  The  Unknown 
Sheepheard's  Complaint,"  and  subscribed  "  Ignoto"  (Halhwell). 


206  NOTES. 

Love's  denying, 
Faith's  defying, 
Heart's  renying, 

Causer  of  this. 

All  my  merry  jigs  are  quite  forgot, 
All  my  lady's  love  is  lost,  God  wot ; 
Where  her  faith  was  firmly  fix'd  in  love, 
There  a  nay  is  plac'd  without  remove. 
One  silly  cross 
Wrought  all  my  loss: 

O  frowning  Fortune,  cursed,  fickle  dame  ' 
For  now  I  see 
Inconstancy 

More  in  women  than  in  men  remain. 

In  black  mourn  I, 
All  fears  scorn  I, 
Love  hath  forlorn  me, 

Living  in  thrall : 
Heart  is  bleeding, 
All  help  needing, 
O  cruel  speeding, 

Fraughted  with  gall. 
My  shepherd's  pipe  can  sound  no  deal ; 
My  wether's  bell  rings  doleful  knell ; 
My  curtal  dog,  that  wont  to  have  play'd, 
Plays  not  at  all,  but  seems  afraid ; 
My  sighs  so  deep 
Procure  to  weep, 

In  howling  wise,  to  see  my  doleful  plight. 
How  sighs  resound 
Through  heartless  ground, 

Like  a  thousand  vanquish'd  men  in  bloody  fight ! 

Clear  wells  spring  not, 
Sweet  birds  sing  not, 
Green  plants  bring  not 

Forth  their  dye ; 
Herds  stand  weeping, 
Flocks  all  sleeping, 
Nymphs  back  peeping 

Fearfully : 

All  our  pleasure  known  to  us  poor  swains, 
All  our  merry  meetings  on  the  plains, 
All  our  evening  sport  from  us  is  fled, 
All  our  love  is  lost,  for  Love  is  dead. 
Farewell,  sweet  lass, 
Thy  like  ne'er  was 

For  a  sweet  content,  the  cause  of  all  my  moan : 
Poor  Corydon 
Must  live  alone ; 

Other  help  for  him  I  see  that  there  is  none." 

XVIII.  (IX.  of  this  ed.). 

XIX.  The  following  imperfect  version  of  Marlowe's  "  Come,  live  with 
me,"  etc.,  with  Lovis  Answer  (a  mere  fragment),  attributed  to  Sir  Wal- 
ter Raleigh:* 


For  complete  copies  of  both  these  poems  see  our  ed.  of  M.  IV.  p.  150. 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  2O7 

"  Live  with  me,  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hills  and  valleys,  dales  and  fields, 
And  all  the  craggy  mountains  yields. 

There  will  we  sit  upon  the  rocks, 
And  see  the  shepherds  feed  their  flocks, 
By  shallow  rivers,  by  whose  falls 
Melodious  birds  sing  madrigals. 

There  will  I  make  thee  a  bed  of  roses, 
With  a  thousand  fragrant  posies, 
A  cap  of  flowers,  and  a  kirtle 
Embroider' d  all  with  leaves  of  myrtle. 

A  belt  of  straw  and  ivy  buds, 
With  coral  clasps  and  amber  studs; 
And  if  these  pleasures  may  thee  move, 
Then  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 

LOVE'S  ANSWER. 

If  that  the  world  and  love  were  young, 
And  truth  in  every  shepherd's  tongue, 
These  pretty  pleasures  mi«ht  me  move 
To  live  with  thee  and  be  thy  love." 

XX.  The  following  (except  lines  27,28)  from  Richard  Barnfield's  Poems: 
In  divers  humors,  1598  (the  first  28  lines  also  found  in  England? s  Helicon, 
1600,  where  it  is  subscribed  "  Ignoto  ") : 

"As  it  fell  upon  a  day 
In  the  merry  month  of  May, 
Sitting  in  a  pleasant  shade 
Which  a  grove  of  myrtles  made, 
Beasts  did  leap,  and  birds  did  sing, 
Trees  did  grow,  and  plants  did  spring; 
Every  thing  did  banish  moan, 
Save  the  nightingale  alone ; 
She,  poor  bird,  as  all  forlorn, 
Lean  d  her  breast  up-till  a  thorn, 
And  there  sung  the  dolefull'st  ditty, 
That  to  hear  it  was  great  pity: 
'  Fie,  fie,  fie,'  now  would  she  cry  ; 
'Tereu,  tereu!'  by  and  by; 
That  to  hear  her  so  complain. 
Scarce  I  could  from  tears  refrain ; 
For  her  griefs,  so  lively  shown, 
Made  me  think  upon  mine  own. 
Ah,  thought  I,  thou  mourn' st  in  vain ! 
None  takes  pity  on  thy  pain  : 
Senseless  trees  they  cannot  hear  thee  ; 
Ruthless  beasts  they  will  not  cheer  thee  : 
King  Pandion  he  is  dead ; 
All  thy  friends  are  lapp'd  in  lead; 
All  thy  fellow  birds  do  sing, 
Careless  of  thy  sorrowing. 
Even  so,  poor  bird,  like  thee, 
None  alive  will  pity  me. 
Whilst  as  fickle  Fortune  smil'd, 
Thou  and  I  were  both  beguil'd. 

Every  one  that  flatters  thee 
Is  no  friend  in  misery. 

14 


20g  NOTES. 

Words  are  easy,  like  the  wind ; 

Faithful  friends  are  hard  to  find : 

Every  man  will  be  thy  friend 

Whilst  thou  hast  wherewith  to  spend ; 

But  if  store  of  crowns  be  scant, 

No  man  will  supply  thy  want. 

If  that  one  be  prodigal, 

Bountiful  they  will  him  call, 

And  with  such-like  flattering, 

'  Pity  but  he  were  a  king ;' 

If  he  be  addict  to  vice, 

Quickly  him  they  will  entice ; 

If  to  women  he  be  bent, 

They  have  at  commandement : 

But  if  Fortune  once  do  frown, 

Then  farewell  his  great  renown  ; 

They  that  fawn'd  on  him  before 

Use  his  company  no  more. 

He  that  is  thy  friend  indeed, 

He  will  help  thee  in  thy  need: 

If  thou  sorrow,  he  will  weep  ; 

If  thou  wake,  he  cannot  sleep; 

Thus  of  every  grief  in  heart 

He  with  thee  doth  bear  a  part. 

These  are  certain  signs  to  know 

Faithful  friend  from  flattering  foe." 

Some  editors  have  divided  the  above  poem,  making  the  first  28  lines 
(or  the  portion  printed  in  England's  Helicon]  a  separate  piece  ;  but  the' 
whole  (except  lines  27,  28)  forms  a  continuous  **  Ode  "  in  Barnfield's 
book,  and  there  is  no  real  division  in  the  1599  ed.  of  the  P.  P.  The 
editors  have  been  misled  by  the  printer's  arrangement  of  his  matter  in 
that  little  book,  where  each  page  has  an  ornamental  head-piece  and  tail- 
piece, with  unequal  portions  of  text  between.  The  first  14  lines  of  this 
poem  are  on  one  page,  the  next  12  on  the  next  page  (27  and  28  want- 
ing), the  next  14  on  the  next,  and  the  last  16  on  the  next.  As  there  is 
something  like  a  break  in  the  piece  between  the  2d  and  3d  pages  as 
thus  arranged,  it  might  appear  at  first  sight  that  it  was  a  division  be- 
tween poems  rather  than  in  a  poem  ;  but,  as  Mr.  Edmonds  has  pointed 
out, "  the  poet's  object  being  to  show  the  similarity  of  his  griefs  to  those 
of  the  nightingale,  he  devotes  the  lines  ending  with  sorrowing  to  the 
bird,"  and  then  "  takes  up  his  own  woes  with  the  line  Whilst  as  fickle 
fortune  smiFd,  and  enlarges  upon  them  to  the  end  of  the  ode." 

The  editor  of  England's  Helicon  seems  to  have  taken  the  first  two 
pages  from  the  P.  P.,  supposing  them  to  be  a  complete  poem  ;  but  feel- 
ing that  it  ended  too  abruptly,  he  added  the  couplet, 

"  Even  so,  poore  bird  like  thee, 

•None  a-live  will  pitty  mee," 
to  round  it  off. 

It  may  be  added  that  his  signing  the  poem  "  Ignoto  "  shows  that  he 
was  not  aware  it  was  Barnfield's,  and  did  not  consider  that  its  appear- 
ance in  the  P.  P.  proved  it  to  be  Shakespeare's ;  and  the  same  may  be 
said  of  XVII.,  the  Helicon  copy  of  which  is  evidently  from  the  P.  P., 
not  from  Weelkes.  On  the  other  hand,  XVI.  of  the  P.  P.  ("  On  a  day, 
alack  the  day,"  etc.),  taken  from  L.  L.  L.,  is  given  in  the  Helicon  with 


THE  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.  209 

Shakespeare's  name  attached  to  it.  Furnivall  says  :  "  Mr.  Grosart  has 
shown  in  his  prefaces  to  his  editions  of  Barnfield's  Poems  and  Griffin's 
Fidessa  that  there  is  no  reason  to  take  from  the  first  his  Ode  (XX.)  and 
his  Sonnet  (VIIL),  or  from  the  second  his  Venus  and  Adonis  Sonnet 
(XL),  many  of  whose  readings  the  Passionate  Pilgrim  print  spoils."  See 
also  Mr.  Edmonds's  able  plea  in  behalf  of  Barnfield's  title  to  VIII.  and 
XX.  in  the  preface  to  his  reprint  (London,  1870)  of  the  1599  ed.  of  the 
P.  P.  p.  xiv.  fol. 

I.— I.  Cytherea.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  ind.  2.  53,  W.  T.  iv.  4.  122,  and  Cymb.  ii. 

2.   14. 

9.  Conceit.     Understanding.     Cf.  Pericles,  p.  145. 

10.  Figured.     Expressed  by  signs.     Coll.  conjectures  "sugar'd." 

II. — 4.  Tarriance.     The  word  occurs  again  in  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  90. 

6.  Spleen.     Heat ;  as  often  in  a  figurative  sense.     Cf.  K.  John,  p.  141. 

12.  Wistly.     Wistfully.     See  on  V.  and  A.  343. 

13.  Whereas.     Where.     See  Pericles,  p.  136,  or  2  Hen.  VI.  p.  153. 

III.  The  2d  line  is  wanting  in  all  the  editions ;  the  omission  being 
first  marked  by  Malone. 

3.  Dove.     See  on  V.  and  A.  153. 

5.  Steep-up.     Cf.  Sonn.  7.5:  "  the  steep-up  heavenly  hill."     We  find 
steep-down  in  Oth.  v.  2.  280. 

1 1.  Ruth.     Pity.     Cf.  Rich.  II.  p.  199. 

IV.  This  may  be  Shakespeare's.     Cf.  Sonn.  138. 

3.  Brighter  than  glass,  etc.    Steevens  quotes  the  following  lines  "  writ- 
ten under  a  lady's  name  on  an  inn  window :" 

"  Quam  digna  inscribi  vitro,  cum  lubrica,  laevis, 

Pellucens,  fragilis,  vitrea  tota  nites!" 
For  brittle  the  old  brickie  (see  Wb.)  might  well  be  substituted. 

14.  Oiit-burneth.     Sewell  has  "  out  burning." 

V.  This  is  probably  not  Shakespeare's. 

1.  Vaded.     Faded/  Cf.  vii.  2  below.     See  also  Rich.  II.  p.  157,  note 
on  Faded. 

3.  Timely.     Early.     Cf.  A.  and  C.  p.  1 88. 

8.  For  why.      Because.      See  on  R.  of  L.  1222.      The  old  eels,  have 
"  lefts  "  for  leftist  in  both  8  and  9.     Cf.  Gr.  340. 

-VI.  Possibly  Shakespeare's.    In  the  eds.  of  1599 .and  1612  it  is  printed, 
as  here,  in  twelve  lines.     Malone  and  others  make  twenty  of  it. 

2.  Pleasance.     Pleasure.     Cf.  Oth.  p.  180. 

4.  Brave.     Fair,  beautiful.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  154. 

VII.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's  ;  perhaps  by  the  same  author  as  V. 
I.  Doubtful.     A  copy  of  this  poem,  said  to  be  from  an  ancient  MS. 
and  published  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  xxii.  p.  521,  has  "fleet- 


210  NOTES. 

ing  "  for  doubtful  both  here  and  in  5  below.  In  3  it  has  "  almost  in  the 
bud"  for  first  it  gins  to  bud  ;  in  4,  "that  breaketh  "  for  that  'j  broken; 
in  7,  "  As  goods,  when  lost,  are  vvond'rous  seldom  found ;"  in  8  "  can 
excite"  for  will  refresh,  and  in  10  "unite"  for  redress ;  in  II  "once,  is 
ever"  for  once  'j  foreve  r  ;  and  in  12  "pains"  for /«///. 

A  second  copy,  "from  a  corrected  MS.,"  appeared  in  the  same  maga- 
zine, vol.  xxx.  p.  39.  The  readings  are  the  same  as  in  the  other  copy> 
except  that  it  has  "a  fleeting"  for  "and  fleeting"  in  I,  and  "fading" 
for  vaded  in  8. 

7.  Seld.     Seldom.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  150:    "As  seld  I  have  the 
chance."     We  find  "seld-shown  "  in  Cor.  ii.  I.  229. 

VIII.  Probably  not  Shakespeare's.    All  recent  eds.  make  the  last  three 
stanzas  a  separate  poem  ;  but  this  is  unquestionably  a  mistake.    See  Ad- 
dendum, p.  214  below. 

3.  Daff*d  me.     Put  me  off,  sent  me  away.  •  See  Much  Ado,  p.  138 ;  and 
cf.  L.  C.  297. 

4.  Descant.     Comment ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  I.  27.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1134. 

8.  Nill.     Will  not.     Cf.  Ham.  p.  259. 

9.  ''T  may  be.     Steevens  says:  "I  will  never  believe  any  poet  could 
begin  two  lines  together  with  such  offensive  elisions.     They  may  both  be 
omitted  without  injury  to  sense  or  metre." 

12.  As  take.     Cf.  Gr.  112. 

14.  Charge  the  watch.  Probably  =  accuse  or  blame  the  watch  (for  mark- 
ing the  time  so  slowly). 

17.  Philomela.  The  nightingale.  See  on  R.  of  L.  1079.  The  Camb. 
editors  conjecture  that  sits  and  should  be  omitted ;  and  they  are  proba- 
bly right. 

21.  Packed.  Sent  packing,  gone.  Ct.  Rich.  III.  i.  i.  146:  "Till  George 
be  pack'd  with  post-horse  up  to  heaven." 

23.  Solace,  solace.  The  old  eds.  have  "solace  and  solace;"  corrected 
by  Malone. 

27.  Moon.     The  old  eds.  have  "  houre ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

30.  Short,  night,  to-night.  Shorten  to-night,  O  night.  For  the  antithe- 
sis, cf.  Cymb.  i.  6.  200  : 

"  I  shall  short  my  word 
By  lengthening  my  return." 

IX.  This  may  perhaps  be  Shakespeare's.     Furnivall  says  :   "That  'to 
sin  and  never  for  to  saint,'  and  the  whole  of  the  poem,  are  by  some 
strong  man  of  the  Shakspere  breed." 

1.  WItenas.     When.     See  on  V.andA.^ty. 

2.  Stair d.     Got  as  in  a  stall,  secured.     Cf.  Cymb.  iii.  4.  in  : 

4'  when  thou  hast  ta'en  thy  stand, 
The  elected  deer  before  thee." 

4.  Partial  fancy  like.  ¥orf<vtcy=]o\'e,  see  on  R.  of  L.  200.  The  early 
eds.  have  "fancy  (party  all  might").  Malone  gave  in  1780  "fancy,  par- 
tial tike,"  but  later  from  an  ancient  MS.  "fancy,  partial  like."  St.  con- 
jectures "  fancy  martial  might ;"  the  Camb.  editors  read  "  fancy,  martial 


THE  PHCENIX  AND   THE   TURTLE.  2ii 

wight"  (a  conjecture  of  Malone's);  and  W.  "  fancy's  partial  might." 
The  text  is  from  a  MS.  in  the  possession  of  Coll.  As  Schmidt  notes, 
like  is  "almost  =love;"  as  in  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  431,  K.  Jo/in,  ii.  i.  511, 
R.  and  J.  i.  3.  97,  etc. 

8.  Filed  talk.  "  Studied  or  polished  language  "  (Malone).  See  L.  L.  L. 
p.  153,  note  on  His  tongue  filed. 

12.  Sell.  The  early  eds.  have  "sale  ;"  corrected  by  Malone,  from  his 
old  MS.,  which  also  has  "thy"  for  her.  The  editors  have  generally 
adopted  "  thy,"  but  the  other  reading  may  be  ="  praise  her  person 
highly,  as  a  salesman  praises  his  wares  "  (W.).  Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  i.  78  : 
"  We  '11  but  commend  what  we  intend  to  sell ;"  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  240  :  "  To 
things  of  sale  a  seller's  praise  belongs  ;"  Sonn.  21.  14 :  "I  will  not  praise 
that  purpose  not  to  sell,"  etc. 

14.  Clear  ere.  The  reading  of  Malone's  MS.  for  the  "calme  yer"  of 
the  old  eds. 

20.  Ban.     Curse.     See  on  V.  and  A.  326. 

28.  In  thy  lady's  ear.     Malone  reads  "always  in  her  ear." 

32.  Humble-true.     First  hyphened  by  St. 

42.  Nought.  On  the  rhyme  with  oft,  cf.  Lear,  p.  193,  note  on  309-313. 
In  Rich.  III.  iii.  6.  13  and  Macb.  iv.  i.  70,  nought  rhymes  with  thought. 

43-46.  Think  women  still,  etc.  Expect  women  always,  etc.  Malone 
reads  from  the  old  MS.  thus  : 

"Think,  women  love  to  match  with  men, 
And  not  to  live  so  like  a  saint: 
Here  is  no  heaven  ;  they  holy  then 
Begin,  when  age  doth  tUem  attaint." 

The  early  eds.  have  in  45,  46  : 

"  There  is  no  heaven  (by  holy  then) 
When  time  with  age  shall  them  attaint." 

The  reading  in  the  text  is  due  to  W.,  and  gives  a  clear  meaning  with  very 
slight  changes  in  the  old  text.  In  a  passage  so  corrupt,  emendation  is 
but  guess-work  at  best ;  but  this  seems  to  us  a  happier  guess  than  that 
of  the  writer  of  Malone's  MS.  We  do  not,  however,  think  it  necessary 
to  put  "  seek  "  for  still  in  43,  as  W.  does. 

50.  Lest  that.     The  early  eds.  have  "  Least  that."     Malone  reads  "  For 
if"  from  his  MS.,  connecting  the  line  with  what  follows. 

51.  To  round  me  i'  the  ear.     To  whisper  in  my  ear.     Cf.  PC.  John, 
p.  151,  note  on  Rounded.     The  early  eds.  have  "  on  th'  are  "  and  "  on  th' 
ere."     Malone  changed  "on"  to  /'  in  1780;  but  in  1790  he  read  "ring 
mine  ear."     Coll.  has  "warm  my  ear"  (from  his  old  MS.).     W.  reads 
"  She'll  not  stick  to  round  me  i'  th'  ear."     H.  follows  Coll. 

54.  Bewray*  d.     Disclosed,  exposed.     See  on  R.  of  L.  1698. 


The  title 
to  that  poem 


THE   PHCENIX  AND  THE  TURTLE. 

-page  of  Chester's  Loves  Martyr,  after  referring  at  some  length 
:m  and  "  the  true  legend  of  famous  King  Arthur"  which  fol- 


2I2  NOTES. 

lows  it,  continues  thus  :  "  To  these  are  added  some  new  compositions  of 
seuerall  moderne  Writers  whose  names  are  subscribed  to  their  seuerall 
workes,  vpon  the  first  subiect:  viz.  the  Phoenix  and  Turtle." 

The  part  of  the  book  containing  these  "compositions"  has  a  separate 
title-page,  as  follows : 

HEREAFTER  |  FOLLOW  DIVERSE  |  Poeticall  Essaies  on  the 
former  Sub-  \  iect ;  viz :  the  Turtle  and  Phczuix.  \  Done  by  the  best  and 
chiefest  of  our  \  moderne  writers,  with  their  names  sub-  |  scribed  to  their 
particular  workes  :  |  neuer  before  extant.  \  And  (now  first)  consecrated 
by  them  all  generally,  |  to  the  lone  and  merite  of  the  true-noble  Knight,  \ 
Sir  lohn  Salisburie.  |  Dignum  lande  virum  Musa  vetat  mori.  \  [wood- 
cut of  anchor]  Anchora  Spei.  \  MDCI. 

Among  these  poems  are  some  by  Marston,  Chapman,  and  Ben  Jonson. 

Malone  has  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle. 
W.  says :  "  There  is  no  other  external  evidence  that  these  verses  are 
Shakespeare's  than  their  appearance  with  his  signature  in  a  collection 
of  poems  published  in  London  while  he  was  living  there  in  the  height  of 
his  reputation.*  The  style,  however,  is  at  least  a  happy  imitation  of  his, 
especially  in  the  bold  and  original  use  of  epithet."  Dowden  writes  us 
that  he  has  now  no  doubt  that  the  poem  is  Shakespeare's  (cf.  his  Primer, 
ed.  1878,  p.  112) ;  and  Furnivall  also  believes  it  to  be  genuine. 

Dr.  Grosart  (see  his  introduction  to  the  New  Shaks.  Soc.  ed.  of  Ches- 
ter's''Loves  Martyr]  sees  a  hidden  meaning  in  this  poem  and  those  asso- 
ciated with  it  in  Chester's  book.  "  The  Phcenix  is  a  person  and  a  wom- 
an, and  the  Turtle-dcwe  a  person  and  a  male  ;  and  while,  as  the  title-page 
puts  it,  the  poet  is  *  Allegorically  shadowing  the  truth  of  Love,'  it  is  a 
genuine  story  of  human  love  and  martyrdom  (Love's  Martyr}.  .  .  .  No  one 
at  all  acquainted  with  what  was  the  mode  of  speaking  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
to  the  very  last,  will  hesitate  in  recognizing  her  as  the  Rosalin  and  Phcenix 
of  Robert  Chester,  and  the  'moderne  writers'  of  this  book.  ...  So  with 
the  Turtle-dove,  epithet  and  circumstance  and  the  whole  bearing  of  the 
Poems  make  us  think  of  but  one  pre-eminent  man  in  the 'Court  of  Eliza- 
beth .  .  .  and  it  will  be  felt  that  only  of  the  brilliant  but  impetuous,  the 
greatly-dowered  but  rash,  the  illustrious  but  unhappy  Robert  Devereux, 
second  Earl  of  Essex,  could  such  splendid  things  have  been  thought." 

Dr.  Grosart  believes  The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle  to  be  Shakespeare's, 
and  calls  it  "  priceless  and  unique"  He  adds:  "Perhaps  Emerson's 
words  on  Shakespeare's  poem  as  well  represent  its  sphinx -character 
even  to  the  most  capable  critics,  as  any  [preface  to  Parnassus,  1875]  : 
'  I  should  like  to  have  the  Academy  of  Letters  propose  a  prize  for  an 
essay  on  Shakespeare's  poem,  Let  the  bird  of  loudest  lay,  and  the  Threnos 
with  which  it  closes,  the  aim  of  the  essay  being  to  explain,  by  a  historical 
research  into  the  poetic  myths  and  tendencies  of  the  age  in  which  it  was 

*  This  is  a  point  in  favour  of  their  being  Shakespeare's  which,  so  far  as  we  are  aware, 
other  critics  have  overlooked  ;  and  it  seems  to  us  of  some  importance.  It  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  Chester's  book  was  not  a  publisher's  piratical  venture,  like  The  Passionate 
Pilgrim,  but  the  reputable  work  of  a  gentleman  who  would  hardly  have  ventured  to  in- 
eult  his  patron  to  whom  he  dedicates  it,  by  palming  off  anonymous  verses  as  the  contri- 
bution of  a  well-known  poet  of  the  time. 


THE  PHCENIX  AND    THE    TURJ^LE.  2l$ 

written,  the  frame  and  allusions  of  the  poem.  I  have  not  seen  Chester^ 
Love's  Martyr  and  "the  Additional  Poems  "  (1601),  in  which  it  appeared. 
Perhaps  that  book  will  suggest  all  the  explanation  this  poem  requires. 
To  unassisted  readers,  it  would  appear  to  be  a  lament  on  the  death  of  a 
poet,  and  of  his  poetic  mistress.  But  the  poem  is  so  quaint,  and  charm- 
ing in  diction,  tone,  and  allusions,  and  in  its  perfect  metre  and  harmony, 
that  I  would  gladly  have  the  fullest  illustration  yet  attainable.  I  consider 
this  piece  a  good  example  of  the  rule,  that  there  is  a  poetry  for  bards 
proper,  as  well  as  a  poetry  for  the  world  of  readers.  This  poem,  if  pub- 
lished for  the  first  time,  and  without  a  known  author's  name,  would  find 
no  general  reception.  Only  the  poets  would  save  it.' " 

Mr,  Hallivvell-Phillipps,  in  his  recent  Outlines  of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare 
(2d  ed.  1882)  says :  "It  was  towards  the  close  of  the  present  year,  1600, 
or  at  some  time  in  the  following  one,  tha't  Shakespeare  for  the  first  and 
only  time,  came  forward  in  the  avowed  character  of  a  philosophical  writ- 
er." After  giving  an  account  of  Chester's  book,  he  adds:  "The  contri- 
bution of  the  great  dramatist  is  a  remarkable  poem  in  which  he  makes 
a  notice  of  the  obsequies  of  the  phcenix  and  turtle-dove  subservient  to 
the  delineation  of  spiritual  union.  It  is  generally  thought  that  Chester 
himself  intended  a  personal  allegory,  but,  if  that  be  the  case,  there  is  noth- 
ing to  indicate  that  Shakespeare  participated  in  the  design,  nor  even  that 
he  had  endured  the  punishment  of  reading  Love's  Martyr" 


Phoenix i 

could  be  called  on  to  'sing' 
represented  as  gifted  with  song. 

2.  The  sole  Arabian  tree.     Malone  cites  Temp.  iii.  3.  22  : 

"Now  I  will  believe 
That  there  are  unicorns ;  that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree,  .the  phoenix'  throne ;  one  phcenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there."' 

He  adds  :  "  This  singular  coincidence  likewise  serves  to  authenticate  the 
present  poem."  The  tree  is  probably  the  palmt  the  Greek  name  of  which 
is  the  same  as  that  of  the  phoenix  (0om£). 

3.  Trumpet.     Trumpeter.     See  Ham.  p.  176,  or  W.  T.  p.  1 68. 

4.  To.     For  its  use  with  obey,  cf.  T.  and  C.  p.  187. 

Dr.  Grosart,  who  takes  the  bird  to  be  the  nightingale,  says :  "  I  have 
myself  often  watched  the  lifting  and  tremulous  motion  of  the  singing 
nightingale's  wings,  and  chaste  was  the  exquisitely  chosen  word  to  de- 
scribe the  nightingale,  in  reminiscence  of  the  classical  story." 

5.  Shrieking  harbinger.     The  screech-owl  (Steevens).     Cf.  M.  N.  D. 

V.  I.  383  :  "Whilst  the  screech-owl,  screeching  loud, 

Puts  the  wretch  that  lies  in  woe 
In  remembrance  of  a  shroud." 

The  fevers  end  is  of  course  death. 

14.  That  defnnctive  music  can.  "That  understands  funereal  music" 
(Malone).  For  this  ™;;=know,  see  Wb.  Cf.  Chaucer,  C.  T.  5638  (ed. 
Tyrwhitt)  :  <«  j  wot  wel  Abraham  was  an  holy  man, 

And  Jacob  eke,  as  fer  as  ever  I  can,"  etc. 


2I4  NOTES. 

1 6.  His.     Its. 

17.  Treble-dated.     Living  thrice  as  long  as  man.     Steevens  quotes  Lu- 
cretius, v.  1053  : 

"Cornicum  ut  secla  vetusta. 
Ter  tres  aetates  humanas  garrula  vincit 
Cornix." 

1 8.  That  thy  sable  gender  mak'st,  etc.      "Thou   crow   that   makest 
[change  in]  thy  sable  gender  with  the  mere  exhalation  and  inhalation 
of  thy  breath  "  (E.  W.  Gosse).     It  was  a  popular  belief  that  the  crow 
could  change  its  sex  at  will. 

25.  As.     That.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1372  and  1420. 

32.  But  in  them  it  were  a  wonder.  "  So  extraordinary  a  phenomenon 
as  hearts  remote,  yet  not  asunder,  etc.,  would  have  excited  admiration, 
had  it  been  found  anywhere  else  except  in  these  two  birds.  In  them  it 
was  not  wonderful  "  (Malone). 

34.  Saw  his  right,  etc.  "  It  is  merely  a  variant  mode  of  expressing 
seeing  love-babies  (or  one's  self  imaged)  in  the  other's  eyes.  This  gives 
the  true  sense  to  mine  in  35  "  (Grosart). 

37.  Property.     Property  in  self,  individuality. 

43.  To  themselves.     Grosart  suggests  that  these  words  should  be  joined 
to  what  precedes. 

44.  Simple  were  so  well  compounded.     That  is,  were  so  well  blended 
into  one. 

45.  That.     So  that.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  242. 

49.  Threne.  Threnody,  funeral  song.  It  is  the  Anglicized  threnos 
(Sp/jvoc),  with  which  the  following  stanzas  are  headed.  Malone  quotes 
Kendal's  Poems,  1577 : 

"  Of  verses,  threnes,  and  epitaphs, 
Full  fraught  with  tears  of  teene." 

A  book  entitled  David* s  Threanes  was  published  in  1620,  and  reprinted 
two  years  later  as  David^s  Tears. 

67.  These  dead  birds.  That  these  birds  are  not  Elizabeth  and  Essex 
has  been  shown  clearly  in  Dr.  F.  J.  FurnivalPs  paper  "On  Chester's 
Lovers  Martyr"  in  Trans,  of  New  Shaks.  Soc.  1877-79,  p.  451  fol. 

ADDENDA. 

PASSIONATE  PILGRIM,  VIII.  (p.  210).  Dowden  (in  his  Introduction  to 
the  "Griggs"  fac-simile  of  the  1599  ed.  of/3.  P.}  gives  good  reasons  for 
not  dividing  this  poem,  but  neither  he  nor  any  other  critic  has  seen  that 
the  1599  ed.  proves  its  unity  beyond  a  doubt.  The  first  two  stanzas  are 
on  one  page,  the  next  two  on  another,  and  the  last  stanza  on  a  third  ;  but 
the  third  stanza  does  not  begin  with  the  large  initial  letter,  which  elsewhere 
in  the  book  is  used  to  mark  the  beginning  of  a  poem.  We  may  add  that 
there  is  similar  typographical  evidence  in  the  1599  ed.  that  XX.  (cf.  p.  208 
above)  should  not  be  divided. 

Dowden  notes  that  in  the  1640  ed.  of  the  Poems,  the  five  stanzas  of  VIII. 
appear  as  one  poem  (see  p.  215  below).  Malone  (in  his  Supplement,, 
1780)  seems  to  have  been  the  first  editor  to  divide  it. 


ADDEA7DA.  2Ic 

THE  1640  EDITION  OF  THE  POEMS  (p.  13). — The  contents  of  this 
book  are  not  described  accurately  by  any  editor  or  bibliographer  that  we 
have  been  able  to  consult.  They  are  as  follows  : 

1.  Poems  by  Leon.  Digges*  and  John  Warren  t  in  eulogy  of  Shake- 
speare. 

2.  All  the  Sonnets  (except  Nos.  18,  19,  43,  56,  75,  76,  96,  and  126)  ar- 
ranged under  various  titles.     The  first  group,  for  instance,  includes  67, 
68,  and  69,  with  the  heading  "  The  glory  of  beautie,"  and  the  second 
puts  together  60,  63,  64,  65,  and  66  under  the  title  "  Injurious  Time." 
From  one  to  five  sonnets  appear  under  a  title.     When  two  or  more  are 
grouped  they  are  printed  as  a  continuous  piece,  with  no  space  between 
the  sonnets.  J 

3.  All  the  poems  of  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  of  1599  (not  "some,"  as 
the  "  Cambridge  "  ed.  says,  or  "  the  greater  part,"  as  Knight  and  others 
give  it),  mostly  interspersed  among  the  Sonnets  and  furnished  with  titles. 
For  instance,  No.  4  ("  Sweet  Cytherea,"  etc.)  is  headed  "  A  sweet  provo- 
cation ;"  No.  8  ("  If  music,"  etc.),  "  Friendly  concord  ;"  No.  10  ("  Sweet 


poem  with  the  title  "Loath  to  depart."     "As  it  fell  upon  a  day"  also 
appears  without  division,  and  is  entitled  "  Sympathizing  love." 
4.  The  following  translations  from  Ovid,  and  other  poems: 
"  The  Tale  of  Cephalus  and  Procris  "  (inserted  before  Sonnets  153  and 

154)' 

"  That  Menelaus  was  cause  of  his  owne  wrongs." 

"  Vulcan  was  lupiters  Smith,  an  excellent  workeman,  on  whom  the 
Poets  father  many  rare  Workes,  among  which,  I  find  this  one.  Mars 
and  Venus." 

"The  History  how  the  Mynotaure  was  begot." 

"This  Mynotaure,  when  he  came  to  growth,  was  incloased  in  the  Lab- 
orinth,  which  was  made  by  the  curious  Arts-master  Dedalus,  whose  Tale 
likewise  we  thus  pursue." 

"  Achilles  his  concealment  of  his  Sex  in  the  Court  of  Lycomedes." 

A  Lovers  Complaint  (Shakespeare's). 

"  The  amorous  Epistle  of  Paris  to  Hellen." 

"  Hellen  to  Paris." 

"  The  Passionate  Shepheard  to  his  Love  "  (the  complete  text  of  Mar- 
lowe's poem,  given  imperfectly  in  P.  P.}. 

"  The  Nimphs  reply  to  the  Shepheard  "  (the  six  stanzas,  of  which  only 
one  is  given  in  P.  P.}. 

"  Another  of  the  same  Nature"  (a  poem  of  44  lines,  beginning : 

*  Not  the  verses  prefixed  to  the  folio  of  1623,  but  a  much  longer  piece,  beginning 
"  Poets  are  borne  not  made,  when  I  would  prove,"  etc.  See  Ingleby's  Centurie  cf 
Praise,  26.  ed.  p.  231  fol. 

t  A  sonnet,  beginning  "What,  lofty  Shakespeare,  art  again  reviv'd?"  See  Centurie 
of  Praise,  p.  235. 

I  For  a  full  list  of  the  groups  with  their  titles,  see  Knight's  Pictorial  Shaksfxrt*  vol. 
ii.  of  Tragedies,  etc.,  p.  487  fol.,  or  Dowden's  larger  ed.  of  the  Sonnets,  p.  47  fol. 


216  ADDENDA. 

"  Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  cieare, 

And  vye  will  revill  all  the  yeare, 

In  plaines  and  groves,  on  hills  and  dales, 

Where  fragrant  ayre  breeds  sweetest  gales 

There  shall  you  have  the  lieautipus  Pine, 

The  Ceder  and  the  spreading  Vine, 

And  all  the  woods  to  be  a  skrene, 

Least  PJuebus  kisse  my  bummers  Queene." 
And  ending  thus : 

"  If  these  may  serve  for  to  intice, 

Your  presence  to  Loves  Paradise, 

Then  come  with  me  and  be  my  deare, 

And  we  will  straight  begin  the  yeare."). 

"  Take,  O  take  those  lips  away  "  (the  stanza  in  M.for  M.  iv.  I.  I  fol., 
with  the  additional  stanza,  ascribed  to  Fletcher,  and  quoted  in  our  ed.  of 
M.  for  M.  p.  1 60  ;  the  song  appearing  here  without  a  title). 

"Let  the  bird  of  lowest  [sic]  lay"  (The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle,  with- 
out a  title,  except  for  the  Threuos,  which  is  hearled  "  Threnes  "). 

"  Why  should  this  Desart  be  "  (the  lines  from  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  133  fol., 
without  a  title). 

"  An  Epitaph  on  the  admirable  Dramaticke  Poet,  William  Sheake- 
speare  "  (signed  "  I.  M.,"  that  is,  John  Milton). 

"On  the  death  of  William  Shakespeare,  who  died  in  Aprill,  Anne 
Dom.  1616"  (the  lines,  "Renowned  Spenser,  lie  a  thought  more  nigh," 
etc.,  signed  here  "  W.  B.."  that  is,  William  Basse,  who  probably  wrote 
them,  though  they  have  been  ascribed  to  Dr.  Donne  and  others). 

"An  Elegie  on  the  death  of  that  famous  Writer  and  Actor,  M.  William 
Shakspeare"  ("I  dare  not  do  thy  memory  that  wrong,"  etc.,  unsigned 
and  not  traced  to  any  author). 

5.  After  the  "  FINIS"  that  follows  the  above  poems  there  is  an  appen- 
dix, with  the  heading  :  "  An  Addition  of  some  Excellent  |  Poems,  to 
those  precedent,  of  |  Renowned  Shakespeare,  \  By  other  Gentlemen." 

The  poems  are  as  follows  : 

"His  Mistresse  Drawne"  (signed  "B.  L" — evidently  intended  for 
"  B.  I.,"  or  Ben  Jonson,  in  whose  works  the  lines  are  printed). 

**  Her  minde  "  (signed  "  B.  L,"  and  also  printed  as  his). 

"  His  Mistris  Shade." 

"  Lavinia  walking  in  a  frosty  Morning." 

"  A  Sigh  sent  to  his  Mistresse." 

"  An  Allegoricall  allusion  of  melancholy  thoughts  to  Bees  "  (signed  "  I. 
G."). 

"  The  Primrose." 

"A  Sigh." 

"A  Blush." 

"  Am  I  dispis'd  because  you  say,"  etc.  (no  title). 

"  Vpon  a  Gentlewoman  walking  on  the  Grasse." 

"  On  his  Love  going  to  Sea." 

"  Aske  me  no  more  where  love  bestovves,"  etc.  (no  title). 

A  second  "  FINIS"  ends  the  volume. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS   AND   PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 


accorded  (^agreed),  198. 

bate-breeding,  177. 

clepes,  1  80. 

acture,  201. 
addressed  (=  ready),  196. 

battle  (^battalion),  177. 
be  remembered,  189. 

clip  (^embrace),  176. 
closure,  178. 

adjunct,  184. 

beaded,  199. 

cloud-kissing  Ilion,  194. 

adulterate,  196. 

beguiled  (active),  196. 

cloudy,  192. 

advance  (=raise),  197. 

beldam,  191. 

coasteth,  179. 

advised,  be,  176. 

bells  (of  falcon),  187. 

coat,  202. 

advisedly,  185,  195,  197. 

beseeched,  201. 

cockatrice'  dead-killing  eye 

afeard,  192. 

beseems,  185. 

1  88. 

affection  (=lust),  187. 

bewrayed,  197,  211. 

cold  fault,  177 

alarms,  174. 
all  to  naught,  180. 

bid  a  base,  173. 
bird  of  loudest  lay,  213. 

colour  (play  upon),  187. 
combustious,  182. 

allow  (^approve),  198. 

birth-hour's  blot,  188. 

comfortable,  184. 

all-too-timeless,  183. 

black  stage,  190. 

compact  of,  172. 

aloes,  202. 

blasts  (intransitive),  183. 

compare  (noun),  183. 

amaze  (=  bewilder),  177. 

blazoned,  201. 

compassed  (^curved),  173. 

anatomized,  195. 

blood  (^passion),  200. 

complain  on,  172,  176. 

and  for,  192. 

blue  windows,  175. 

complained  (transitive),  198. 

angry-chafing,  177. 

blunt  (^=rude),  195. 

conceit  (^conception),  189, 

annexions,  201. 

blunt  (=savage),  179. 

194. 

annoy  (noun),  175,  192- 

bollen,  194. 

conceit  (  =  understanding  ), 

antics,  187. 

bond  (—ownership),  184. 

209. 

appaid,  191. 

borrowed  motion,  203. 

conceited  (  =  fanciful  ),  194, 

applying  wet  to  wet,  199. 

brave  (=beautiful),  209. 

198. 

Arabian  tree,  213. 

braving  compare,  183. 

conclusion  (  =  experiment  ), 

Ardea  (accent),  182. 

brokers  (=panders),  201. 

J93« 

arrive  (transitive),  190. 

bulk  (=  chest),  187. 

conduct  (^conductor),  186. 

as  (—that),  194,  214. 

burden-wise,  192. 

confounds  (=ruins),  184,  193, 

askance  (verb),  189. 

195- 

aspect  (accent),  183. 

cabinet  (=nest),  179. 

congest,  202. 

assays  (=attempts),  197,  200. 
astonished    (  =  astounded  ), 

can  (=know),  213. 
canker  (=worm),  177. 

conjures  (accent),  188. 
contemn  me  this,  173. 

197. 

careless  hand  of  pride,  199. 

contrives,  202. 

at  a  bay,  179. 

carriage  (figurative),  199. 

controlled    (  =  restrained), 

at  gaze,  193. 

carry-tale,  177. 

187,  189. 

attired  in  discontent,  196. 

case  (=dress),  200. 

convert  (intransitive),  188, 

a-twain,  198. 

cautels,  203. 

189. 

authorized  (accent),  200. 

chafe,  174. 

convert  (rhyme),  188. 

a-work,  195. 

chaps  (spelling),  195. 

convertite,  190. 

ay  me!   179. 

charactered  (accent),  190. 

cope  him,  179. 

balk  (=neglect),  189. 

charge  the  watch,  210. 
cheer  (=face),  185. 

copesmate,  191. 
coucheth  (transitive),  187. 

bankrupt  (spelling),  175,  184. 
banning(—  cursing),  174,  195, 

cherish  springs,  191. 
cherubin,  203. 

counterfeit  (=likeness),  194 
cranks  (—turns),  177. 

211. 

churlish  (boar),  176. 

credent,  202. 

bare  (noun),  200. 

cipher  (—decipher),  190. 

crest-wounding,  190. 

barns  (verb),  191. 

city  (figurative),  201. 

cries  some,  199. 

bateless,  183. 

civil  (—decorous),  203. 

cuckoos,  191. 

2i8     INDEX   OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


curious  (^careful),  178,  199. 
curled  hair,  191. 

field  (play  upon),  183. 
fiery-pointed,  186. 

in  post,  182. 
in  sadness  (—in  earnest),  178. 

curst,  179- 

figured,  209. 

incorporate,  176. 

Cytherea,  209. 

filed  talk,  2ii. 

insinuate  with,  180. 

fine  (=bringtoan  end),  191. 

instance  (=evidence\  195. 

daffed,  203,  210. 

fire  (dissyllable),  174. 

insult  (=exult;,  176. 

decease  (rhyme),  180. 

flaws  (=gusts),  175. 

insulter,  176. 

deep  regard,  194. 

fluxive,  199. 

intend  (=pretend\  184. 

defame  (noun),  190. 

foil  (noun),  200. 

intendments,  173. 

defeature,  178. 

folly  (=  wickedness),  191. 

interprets,  194. 

defunctive.  213. 

fond(=foolish),  180,185,192. 

intituled,  183. 

deprive  (—take  away),  193, 

fondling  (^darling),  173. 

intrude  (=invnde\  191. 

197. 

for  (=  because),  192. 

inventions,  194. 

descant  (=comment),  210. 

for  why,  193,  209. 

invised,  201. 

descant  (=sing),  192. 

force  not  (=regardnot\  192. 

invisible,  175. 

diapason,  192- 

forced  to  content,  171. 

digression  (^transgression), 

forestall  (^prevent),  190. 

jade,  190. 

.185. 

forsworn,  178. 

dismount  (figurative),  202. 

frets  (noun),  192. 

ken  (=sight),  192. 

dispense  with,  192,  194,  197. 

from  (—away  from),  193. 

key-cold,  197. 

dispersed  (accent),  197. 

fruitless  (—barren),  178. 

kill,  kill!    177. 

disports  (noun),  182. 

fry  (—  small  fry).  176. 

kind  (=  natural).  194. 

disputation  (metre).  185. 

fulfilled  (=filled  full),  193. 

distract  (accent),  201. 

laid  (=lay),  198. 

done  (=ruined),  183,  198. 

gage  (=risk),  184. 

land  (noun),  189. 

doves  (of  Venus),  172,  182, 

gentry  (=gentle  birth  \  188. 

late  (=lately),  197,  202. 

209. 

gins  (=begins),  171. 

laund,  178. 

dumps,  192. 

gives  her  sorrow  fire,  196. 

laundering,  198. 

glisters,  173. 

leaps  (rhymei,  173. 

ear  (^plough),  170. 
ecstasy  (—excitement),  179, 

g)  about  (=attempt\  174. 
od  wot,  194. 

leave  (=license).  176. 
lectures  (=lessons),  189. 

200. 

government,  194. 

leisures,  201. 

effects,  196. 

grained  (bat),  200. 

let  (=forbear),  183. 

element  (^sky),  196. 

grave  (—bury?),  189. 

let  (=hinderj,  186. 

embracements,  173. 

grave  (=engrave),  174. 

let  (=hindrance),  189. 

empty  eagle,  171. 
engine  of  her  thoughts,  174. 

graff,  192. 
grey,  172. 

levelled  (=aimed),  199,  200 
203. 

en  patron,  201. 

gripe  (^griffin),  188. 

like(=as?),  187. 

ensue  (transitive),  187. 

grisly,  191. 

limed,  183. 

envious  (^malicious),  178. 

lists  of  love,  176. 

exclaims  on,  180,  190. 

had  gave,  176. 

liver  (seat  of  passion),  183. 

expired  (accent),  183. 

hard-favoured,  172,  196. 

lode-star,  185. 

extincture,  203. 

harmless  show,  195. 

lover  (feminine),  198. 

extreme  (accent),  185. 

hearsed,  189. 

love's  golden  arrow,  i8:>. 

eyne,  177,  189,  193. 

heart's  attorney,  174. 

lust  (=pleasure),  194. 

heartless,  187. 

lust-breathed,  182. 

fact  (=deed),  186. 

heave  her  napkin,  198. 

luxury  (=lust),  203. 

fair  (^beauty),  181. 

helpless,  176,  192- 

fair  fall,  175. 

honey  (adjective),  171. 

make  a  saw,  197. 

falcon's  bells,  187. 
fall  (=let  fall),  196. 

honour  (=lordship),  170. 
hild  (=held),  193. 

manage  (noun),  200. 
manage  (of  horses),  176. 

fancy  (=love),  185,  210. 

his  (=its),  174,  1  88,  195,  214. 

mane  (plural),  173. 

fancy  (=lover),  200,  201. 

his  (=of  him),  iS:>. 

map  (^picture),  186. 

fnstly,  200. 

margents,  184. 

fault  (in  hunting),  177. 

11-nurtured,  172. 

marriage  (trisyllable^,  185. 

fear  (=frighten),  181. 

maginary,  194. 

mated  (=bewildered),  180, 

fear  (=object  of  fear),  186. 
fearful  (=full  of  fear),  177. 

magination  (metre),  177. 
mperious  (=imperial),  i8~>. 

maund,  199. 
mean  (=means),  192. 

feast-finding,  190. 

mposthumes,  178. 

measure  (^=dance),  182. 

feat  (adverb),  199. 

mpleached,  201. 

mermaid  (=siren),  174,  178. 

fee-simple,  my  own,  200. 

n  (=on),  172. 

miss  (^misbehaviour),  171. 

fence  (=guard),  183. 
fickle,  198. 

n  clay  (=in  the  grave),  189. 
1   n  hand  with,  180. 

mistrustful,  178. 
moe,  195,  196,  199,  200. 

INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND   PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


219 


moiety,  182. 
moralize,  184. 

plaining,  188. 
plaits  (noun),  183. 

more  (^greater),  171. 

plausibly,  198. 

mortal  (  =  death  -  dealing  ), 

pleasance,  209. 

176. 

pleasing  (passive),  192. 

mot  (=motto),  190. 

point  (^appoint),  191. 

musing  (—wondering),  179. 

posied,  199. 

musits,  177. 

power  (plural),  186. 

preached  pure  maid,  203. 

naked  (play  upon),  185. 

precedent,  193. 

nameless,  187. 
napkin   (  =  handkerchief  ), 

prefer  and  undertake,  199. 
present  (=instant),  193. 

198. 

pretended  (—intended),  188. 

Narcissus,  172,  185. 

pretty,  193. 

needle  (monosyllable),  186. 

prick  (=  dial-point),  190. 

nill,  210. 

prime  (—spring),  186. 

nimble  notes,  192. 

prone  (=headlong),  189. 

note  (—notoriety),  202. 
note  (=stigma),  185. 

proof  (=armour),  177. 
proof  (=experience),  200. 

nought  (rhyme),  211. 

property,  214. 

nought  to  do,  192. 

proportioned,  190. 

nuzzling,  181. 

prove  (^experience),  176. 

prove  (=try),  171. 

obdurate  (accent),  173,  187. 

purified,  188. 

obey  to,  213. 

purled,  194. 

o'er-worn,  172. 

o'erstraw'd,  182. 

qualified,  187. 

of  force,  201. 

quality  (of  gems),  201. 

on  (omitted),  187. 

questioned  (^talked),  184. 

on  ringing,  195. 

quittal,  185. 

only  (transposed),  187. 

quote  (—note),  190. 

orchard  (=  garden),  200. 

Orpheus,  188. 

rank  (adjective),  171. 

orts,  192. 

read  lectures,  189. 

outwards  (noun),  200. 

reaves,  178. 

overseen  (=  be  witched),  193. 

receipt,  189. 

overseer  (of  will),  193. 

remorse  (=pity),  173. 

owe  (—own),  174,  183,  197, 

rents  (=rends),  199. 

203. 

repeal  (=recall),  189. 

repine  (noun),  175. 

packed  (=sent  packing),  210. 
painted  cloth,  185. 

reprove  (^disprove),  178- 
requiring  (=asking),  182. 

pale  (—enclosure),  173. 

resolution  (metre),  186. 

pale  (^paleness),  176. 

respect  (^prudence),  185. 

paling  the  place,  etc.,  202. 

respects    (—considerations), 

palmer,  190. 
Paphos,  182. 

180. 
retire  (noun\  184. 

parling,  184. 

retire  (transitive),  186- 

passenger,  172. 

retiring  (—returning),  191. 

passions  (—grieves),  181. 

re-worded,  198. 

peeled  (spelling),  193. 

rigol,  197. 

peers  (verb),  187. 

rose-cheeked,  170. 

pelleted,  199. 

round  (=whisper),  an- 

pelt  (verb),  194. 

ruffle  (^bustle),  199. 

pensived,  201. 

ruinate,  191. 

perplexed  (  =  confounded), 

ruth  (=pity),  209. 

190. 

Philomel,  192,  210. 

sad  (^serious),  185. 

phoenix  (adjective),  200. 

saw  (=maxim),  185. 

phraseless,  201. 

sawn  (=sown  ?),  200. 

pine  (—  starve\  176. 

scape  (noun),  190. 

pioneer  (spelling),  194. 
pith  (=vigour),  171. 

seared,  198. 
seasoned  (figurative),  199. 

seated  from  the  way,  193. 

securely,  183. 

seeks  to,  185. 

seld,  210. 

senseless,  190. 

sensible  (^sensitive),  175. 

sepulchred  (accent),  190. 

set  a-work,  195. 

shame    (  intransitive  ),   192, 

sheaved,  199. 

shjfting  (=deceitful),  191. 

shift  (—trickery),  191. 

shine  (noun),  175. 

shoot  (noun),  188. 

short  (verb),  210. 

shrewd  (=evil),  175. 

silly  (=innocent),  181,  184. 

simple  (^artless),  178. 

simple  (noun),  188. 

Sinon,  195. 

sistering,  198. 

sith,  178,  182. 

size,  199. 

slanderous,  192. 

sleided,  199. 

slips  (play  upon),  175. 

smoothing(— flattering',  191. 

sneaped,  186. 

sod  (= sodden),  196. 

sometime,  192,  199. 

sort  (= adapt),  193. 

sort  (—select),  191. 

sounds  (waters),  194. 

spend  their  mouths,  177. 

spirit    (monosyllable),    172, 

198,  202. 

spleen  (=heat),  209. 
spleens,  180. 

spotted  (=polluted),  190. 
spright,  172,  184,  197. 
spring  (=bud),  177,  191. 
stain  to  all  nymphs,  171. 
stalled,  210. 
steep-up,  209. 
stelled,  195. 
stillitory,  175. 
still-pining,  191. 
still-slaughtered,  185. 
sting  (—stimulus),  202. 
stole  (=robe),  203. 
stops(of  musical  instrument/, 

192. 

stories  (verb),  18^,  184. 
strand  (spelling),  195. 
strange  kinds,  193. 
strangeness,  175. 
struck  (spelling),  175. 
strucken,  185. 
suffered,  174. 

suggested  (—tempted),  183. 
supplicant,  202. 
supposed,  1 86. 


220 


INDEX   OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


supreme  (accent),  190. 
surcease,  197. 

oward  (=forward),  182. 
owering  (in  falconry),  187. 

suspect  (noun),  180. 

reatise  (=talk),  178. 

sweating  palm,  171. 

reble-dated,  214. 

swooning  (spelling),  203. 
swounds,  195. 

renched,  181. 
riumphing  (accent),  194. 

rue  men,  178. 

take  truce,  171. 

rumpet  (^trumpeter),  213. 

taking  (noun),  187. 

tarriance,  209. 

unadvised,  195. 

tender  (=favour),  i88i 

unapproved,  199. 

teen  (=sorrow),  178,  201. 
temperance  (=chastity),  191. 

uncouple,  177. 
uncouth  (^strange),  196. 

tempering,  176. 

undertake    (  =  guarantee  ), 

termless,  200. 

202. 

than  (—then),  195. 

unexperient,  203. 

thorougli  (=through),  198. 

unhappy  (  —  mischievous  ), 

threaden,  199. 

196. 

threne,  214. 

unkind  (^childless),  173. 

timely  (=early),  209. 
tired  (=attired),  172. 

unlived,  197. 
unrecalling  (passive),  192. 

tires  (  =  feeds  ravenously), 

unseasonable,  188. 

171. 

unsounded,  198. 

Titan  (=sun),  172. 

urchin-snouted,  181. 

that  (=so  that),  1  73,  176,  179, 

183,  185,  187,  194,  i95.  i97» 

vaded,  209. 

200,  214- 

vails  (=lowers),  173,  180. 

to  (=in  addition  to),  196. 

vastly,  197. 

too  late  (=too  lately).  197. 

venge,  197. 

too  too,  184. 

villain  (=servant),  194. 

told  (^counted),  173,  175. 

top  of  rage,  199. 

ward  (=bolt),  186. 

was    my    own     fee-simple, 

200. 

Wat  (=hare),  178. 
watch  of  woes,  191. 
water-galls,  196. 
weed  (^garment),  185. 
whenas,  180,  210. 
who  (= which),  173, 179, 181, 

1 86,  192. 

where  (=whereas),  190. 
whereas  (=where),  209. 
whether  (  monosyllable  ), 

.173- 
wink  (=shut  the  eyes),  172, 

187,  188. 

wipe  (noun),  188. 
wistly,  174,  194,  209. 
withhold  (=detain),  176. 
within  his  danger,  177. 
wits  (rhyme),  179. 
wood  (=mad),  178. 
woodman  (=hunter),  188. 
wot,  194. 

worm  (^serpent),  iSo. 

wrack,  175. 

wrapped  (  —  overwhelmed ), 

187. 

wreaked  (—revenged),  180. 
wretch  (as  a  term  of  pity) 

178. 

writ  on  death,  175- 
wrong  the  wronger,  191. 


Full  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen 
Flatter  the  mountain  tops  with  sovereign  eye, 
Kissing  with  golden  face  the  meadows  green. 
Gilding  pale  streams  with  heavenly  alchemy  (Sex*.  33). 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS 

EDITED,  WITH  NOTES, 

BY 

WILLIAM  J.  ROLFE,  LITT.D. 

Copyright,  1883,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


STATUE  OF  MARY  FJTTON. 


CONTENTS. 


PACE 

INTRODUCTION  TO  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS 9 

I.  THEIR  HISTORY 9 

II.  CRITICAL  COMMENTS  ON  THE  SONNETS 12 

SHAKESPEARE'S    SONNETS 45 

NOTES 125 


Nor  that  full  star  that  ushers  in  the  even 

Doth  half  that  glory  to  the  sober  west 

As  those  two  mourning  eyes  become  thy  face  (Sonn.  132). 


INTRODUCTION 

TO 

SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


I.  THEIR    HISTORY. 


The  Sonnets  were  first  published  in  1609,  with  the  follow- 
ing title-page  (as  given  in  the  fac-simile  of  1870): 

SHAKE -SPEARES    I    SONNETS.       Neuer    before    Im- 


printed. |  AT  LONDON  |  By  G.  Eld  for  T.  T.  and  are 
solde  by  William  Aspley.  \  1609. 


to  be 


I0  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

In  some  copies  the  latter  part  of  the  imprint  reads:  "  to 
be  solde  by  John  Wright,  dwelling  |  at  Christ  Church  gate.  | 
1609." 

At  the  end  of  the  volume  A  Lover  s  Complaints  as  printed. 

In  1640  the  Sonnets  (except  Nos.  18,  19,  43,  56,  75,  76,  96, 
and  126),  re-arranged  under  various  titles,  with  the  pieces  in 
The  Passionate  Pi/grim,  A  Lover's  Complaint,  The  Phoenix 
and  the  Turtle,  the  lines  "Why  should  this  a  desert  be,"  etc. 
(A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  133  fol.),  "Take,  O  take  those  lips  away," 
etc.  (M.  for  M.  iv.  i.  i  fol.),  and  sundry  translations  from 
Ovid,  evidently  not  Shakespeare's  (see  our  ed.  of  V.  and  A. 
p.  215),  were  published  with  the  following  title: 

POEMS :  |  WRITTEN  j  BY  |  WIL.  SHAKE-SPEARE.  |  Gent,  j 
Printed  at  London  by  Tho.  Cotes,  and  are  j  to  be  sold  by 
lohn  Benson,  dwelling  in  |  S*  Dunstans  Church-yard.  1640. 

There  is  an  introductory  address  "  To  the  Reader "  by 
Benson,  in  which  he  asserts  that  the  poems  are  "of  the 
same  purity  the  Authotir  himselfe  then  living  avouched," 
and  that  they  will  be  found  "  seren,  cleere  and  eligantly 
plaine."  He  adds  that  by  bringing  them  "  to  the  perfect 
view  of  all  men  "  he  is  "glad  to  be  serviceable  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  glory  to  the  deserved  Author." 

The  order  of  the  poems  in  this  volume  is  followed  in  the 
editions  of  Gildon  (1710)  and  of  Sewell  (1725  and  1728)  ; 
also  in  those  published  by  Ewing  (1771)  and  Evans  (1775). 
In  all  these  editions  the  sonnets  mentioned  above  (18,  19, 
etc.)  are  omitted,  and  138  and  144  are  given  in  the  form  in 
which  they  appear  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim. 

The  first  complete  reprint  of  the  Sonnets,  after  the  edi- 
tion of  1609,  appears  to  have  been  in  the  collected  edition 
of  Shakespeare's  Poems,  published  by  Lintott  in  1709  (see 
our  ed.  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  etc.,  p.  13). 

The  earliest  known  reference  to  the  Sonnets  is  in  the 
Palladis  Tamia  of  Meres  (cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  9,  and  C.  of  E.  p. 
TOI),  who  speaks  of  them  as  "his  sugred  Sonnets  among 


INTRODUCTION.  ,  r 

his  priuate  friends."  This  was  in  1598,  and  in  the  next  year 
two  of  them  (138  and  144)  were  printed  in  The  Passionate 
Pilgrim.  We  do  not  know  that  any  of  the  others  were  pub- 
lished before  1609.  They  were  probably  written  at  inter- 
vals during  many  years.  "  Some,  if  we  were  to  judge  by 
their  style,  belong  to  the  time  when  Romeo  and  Juliet  was 
written.  Others— as,  for  example,  66-74— echo  the  sadder 
tone  which  is  heard  in  Hamlet  and  Measure  for  Measure" 
(Dowden).  It  is  evident  that  there  is  a  gap  of  at  least 
three  years  (see  104)  between  99  and  the  following  group 
(100-112). 

The  theories  concerning  these  interesting  poems  cannot 
even  be  enumerated  in  the  space  at  our  command.  "Some 
have  looked  on  them  as  one  poem  ;  some  as  several  poems — 
of  groups  of  sonnets  ;  some  as  containing  a  separate  poem 
in  each  sonnet.  They  have  been  supposed  to  be  written  in 
Shakespeare's  own  person,  or  in  the  character  of  another, 
or  of  several  others  ;  to  be  autobiographical  or  heterobio- 
graphical,  or  allegorical ;  to  have  been  addressed  to  Lord 
Southampton,  to  Sir  William  Herbert,  to  his  own  wife,  to 
Lady  Rich,  to  his  child,  to  his  nephew,  to  himself,  to  his 
muse.  The  'W.  H.'  in  the  dedication  has  been  interpreted 
as  William  Herbert,  William  Hughes,  William  Hathaway, 
Wrilliam  Hart  (his  nephew),  William  Himself,  and  Henry 
Wriothesly  "  (Fleay).* 

For  our  own  part,  we  find  it  as  difficult  to  believe  that 
some  of  the  Sonnets  are  autobiographical  as  that  others 
are  not;  and  all  that  has  been  written  to  prove  that  1-126 
are  all  addressed  to  the  same  person  fails  to  convince  us. 
It  is  clear  enough  that  certain  sets  (like  1-17,  for  instance) 

*  Some  of  these  theories  are  discussed  in  the  extracts  given  below 
from  Dowden's  Introduction  to  his  valuable  edition  of  the  Sonnets.  For 
an  admirable  resume  of  the  entire  literature  of  the  subject,  see  the  larger 
edition  of  Dowden  (London,  1881),  Part  II.  of  the  Introduction,  pp. 
36-110. 


I2  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS, 

form  a  regular  series,  but  that  all  the  poems  are  arranged  in 
the  order  in  which  Shakespeare  meant  to  have  them  is  not 
so  clear.  There  is  no  evidence  that  the  edition  of  1609  was 
supervised  or  even  authorized  by  him.  The  enigmatical 
dedication  is  not  his,  but  the  publisher's;  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  poems  is  probably  that  of  the  person  who  pro- 
cured them  for  publication,  whoever  he  may  have  been. 
The  order  seems  to  us  more  like  that  of  a  collector — one  who 
knew  something  of  their  history,  and  was  interested  in  get- 
ting them  together  for  publication — than  that  of  the  author. 
Possibly  this  collector  had  his  own  little  theory  as  to  the  in- 
terconnection of  some  of  them,  like  certain  of  the  modern 
editors,  no  one  of  whom  seems  on  the  whole  to  have  been 
any  more  successful  in  classifying  them.  We  fear  that  both 
their  order  and  the  means  by  which  the  publisher  got  posses- 
sion of  them  must  continue  to  be  among  the  insoluble  prob- 
lems of  literature.* 

II.    CRITICAL    COMMENTS    ON   THE    SONNETS. 

[.From  DowdeiCs  Edition.^ 

The  student  of  Shakspere  is  drawn  to  the  Sonnets  not 
alone  by  their  ardour  and  depth  of  feeling,  their  fertility  and 
condensation  of  thought,  their  exquisite  felicities  of  phrase, 
and  their  frequent  beauty  of  rhythmical  movement,  but  in  a 
peculiar  degree  by  the  possibility  that  here,  if  nowhere  else, 
the  greatest  of  English  poets  may — as  Wordsworth  puts  it — 
have  "unlocked  his  heart."  t  It  were  strange  if  his  silence, 

*  See  also  Addenda,  p.  184  fol.  below. 

t  The  Sonnets  of  William  Shakspere,  edited  by  Edward  Dowden  (Lon- 
don, 1881),  p.  xv.  fol.  (also  in  the  larger  ed.  p.  4  fol.). 

\  Poets  differ  in  the  interpretation  of  the  Sonnets  as  widely  as  critics  : 

"  '  With  this  same  key 

Shakespeare  unlocked  his  heart '  once  more  ! 
Did  Shakespeare  ?    If  so,  the  less  Shakespeare  he  !" 

So,  Mr.  Browning ;  to  whom  replies  Mr.  Swinburne,  "  No  whit  the  less 
like  Shakespeare,  but  undoubtedly  the  less  like  Browning."  Some  of 


INTRODUCTION.  ,- 

deep  as  that  of  the  secrets  of  Nature,  never  once  knew  in- 
terruption. The  moment,  however,  we  regard  the  Sonnets 
as  autobiographical,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  presence  of 
doubts  and  difficulties,  exaggerated,  it  is  true,  by  many 
writers,  yet  certainly  real. 

If  we  must  escape  from  them,  the  simplest  mode  is  to 
assume  that  the  Sonnets  are  "the  free  outcome  of  a  poetic 
imagination  "  (Delius).  It  is  an  ingenious  suggestion  of 
Delius  that  certain  groups  may  be  offsets  from  other  poeti- 
cal works  of  Shakspere  ;  those  urging  a  beautiful  youth  to 
perpetuate  his  beauty  in  offspring  may  be  a  derivative  from 
Venus  and  Adonis ;  those  declaring  love  for  a  dark  complex- 
ioned  woman  may  rehandle  the  theme  set  forth  in  Berowne's 
passion  for  the  dark  Rosaline  of  Love's  Labour  Js  Lost ;  those 
which  tell  of  a  mistress  resigned  to  a  friend  may  be  a  non- 
dramatic  treatment  of  the  theme  of  love  and  friendship  pre- 
sented in  the  later  scenes  of  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 
Perhaps  a  few  sonnets,  as  no  and  in,  refer  to  circum- 
stances of  Shakspere's  life  (Dyce) ;  the  main  body  of  these 
poems  may  still  be  regarded  as  mere  exercises  of  the  fancy. 

Such  an  explanation  of  the  Sonnets  has  the  merit  of  sim- 
plicity ;  it  unties  no  knots,  but  cuts  all  at  a  blow;  if  the  col- 
lection consists  of  disconnected  exercises  of  the  fancy,  we 

Shelley's  feeling  with  reference  to  the  Sonnets  may  be  guessed  from 
certain  lines  to  be  found  among  the  Studies  for  Epipsychidion  and  Can- 
celled Passages  (Poetical  Works  :  ed.  Forman,  vol.  ii.  pp.  392,  393),  to 
which  my  attention  has  been  called  by  Mr.  E.  W.  Gosse : 

"  If  any  should  be  curious  to  discover 
Whether  to  you  I  am  a  friend  or  lover,     ' 
Let  them  read  Shakspeare's  sonnets,  taking  thence 
A  whetstone  for  their  dull  intelligence 
That  tears  and  will  not  cut,  or  let  them  guess 
How  Diotima,  the  wise  prophetess, 
Instructed  the  instructor,  and  why  he 
Rebuked  the  infant  spirit  of  melody 
On  Agathon's  sweet  lips,  which  as  he  spoke 
Was  as  the  lovely  star  when  morn  has  broke 
The  roof  of  darkness,  in  the  golden  dawn, 
Half-hidden  and  yet  beautiful." 


I4  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

need  not  try  to  reconcile  discrepancies,  nor  shape  a  story, 
nor  ascertain  a  chronology,  nor  identify  persons.  And  what 
indeed  was  a  sonneteer's  passion  but  a  painted'fire  ?  What 
was  the  form  of  verse  but  an  exotic  curiously  trained  and 
tended,  in  which  an  artificial  sentiment  imported  from  Italy 
gave  perfume  and  colour  to  the  flower  ? 

And  yet,  in  this  as  in  other  forms,  the  poetry  of  the  time, 
which  possesses  an  enduring  vitality,  was  not  commonly 
caught  out  of  the  air,  but — however  large  the  conventional 
element  in  it  may  have  been — -was  born  of  the  union  of 
heart  and  imagination/;  in  it  real  feelings  and  real  exped- 
ience, submitting  to  the  poeticaUJashions  of  the  day,  were 
/raised  to  an  ideal  expression^ Spenser  wooed  and  wedded 
N*J£>  the  Elizabeth  of  his  Amoretti.  The  Astrophel  and  Stella  tells 
~~'of  ~a  veritable  tragedy,  fatal  perhaps  to  two  bright  lives  and 
passionate  hearts.  And  what  poems  of  Drummond  do  we 
remember  as  we  remember  those  which  record  how  he 
loved  and  lamented  Mary  Cunningham  ? 

Some  students  of  the  Sonnets,  who  refuse  to  trace  their 
origin  to  real  incidents  of  Shakspere's  life,  allow  that  they 
form  a  connected  poem,  or  at  most  two  connected  poems, 
and  these,  they  assure  us,  are  of  deeper  significance  than 
any  mere  poetical  exercises  can  be.  They  form  a  stupen- 
dous allegory  ;  they  express  a  profound  philosophy.  The 
young  friend  whom  Shakspere  addresses  is  in  truth  the 
poet's  Ideal  Self,  or  Ideal  Manhood,  or  the  Spirit  of  Beauty, 
or  the  Reason,  or  the  Divine  Logos ;  his  dark  mistress, 
whom  a  prosaic  German  translator  (Jordan)  takes  for  a 
mulatto  or  quadroon,  is  indeed  Dramatic  Art,  or  the  Catho- 
lic Church,  or  the  Bride  of  the  Canticles,  black  but  comely. 
Let  us  not  smile  too  soon  at  the  pranks  of  Puck  among  the 
critics ;  it  is  more  prudent  to  move  apart  and  feel  gently 
whether  that  sleek  nole,  with  fair  large  ears,  may  not  have 
been  slipped  upon  our  own  shoulders. 

When  we  question  saner  critics  why  Shakspere's  Sonnets 


INTRO  D  UCTION.  T  - 

may   not  be   at  once  Dichtung  und  Wahrheit,  poetry  and 
truth,  their  answer  amounts  to  this :  Is  it  likely  that  Shak- 
spere  would  so  have  rendered  extravagant  homage  to  a  boy 
patron?     Is  it  likely  that  one  who  so  deeply  felt  the  moraA 
order  of  the  world  would  have  yielded,  as  the  poems  to  his  1 
dark  lady  acknowledge,  to  a  vulgar  temptation  of  the  senses?  f 
or,  yielding,  would  have  told  his  shame  in  verse  ?    Objections  I 
are   brought  forward  against  identifying  the  youth  of  the 
Sonnets  with  Southampton  or  with  Pembroke ;  it  is  pointed 
out  that  the  writer  speaks  of  himself  as  old,  and  that  in  a 
sonnet  published  in  Shakspere's  thirty-fifth  year ;  here  evi- 
dently he  cannot  have  spoken   in  his  own  person,  and  if 
not  here,  why  elsewhere  ?     Finally,  it  is  asserted  that  the 
poems  lack  internal  harmony  ;  no  real  person  can  be — what 
Shakspere's  friend  is  described  as  being — true  and  false, 
constant  and  fickle,  virtuous  and  vicious,  of  hopeful  expecta- 
tion, and  publicly  blamed  for  careless  living. 

Shakspere  speaks  of  himself  as  old ;  true,  but  in  the  son- 
net published  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  (138),  he  speaks  as 
a  lover,  contrasting  himself,  skilled  in  the  lore  of  life,  with 
an  inexperienced  youth;  doubtless  at  thirty-five  he  was  not 
a  Florizel  nor  a  Ferdinand.  In  the  poems  to  his  friend, 
Shakspere  is  addressing  a  young  man  perhaps  of  twenty 
years,  in  the  fresh  bloom  of  beauty ;  he  celebrates  with  de- 
light the  floral  grace  of  youth,  to  which  the  first  touch  of 
time  will  be  a  taint ;  those  lines  of  thought  and  care,  which 
his  own  mirror  shows,  bear  witness  to  time's  ravage.  It  is 
as  a  poet  that  Shakspere  writes,  and  his  statistics  are  those 
not  of  arithmetic  but  of  poetry. 

That  he  should  have  given  admiration  and  love  without 
measure  to  a  youth  highborn,  brilliant,  accomplished,  who 
singled  out  the  player  for  peculiar  favour,  will  seem  wonder- 
ful only  to  those  who  keep  a  constant  guard  upon  their  af- 
fections, and  to  those  who  have  no  need  to  keep  a  guard  at 
all.  In  the  Renascence  epoch,  among  natural  products  of 


!6  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

a  time  when  life  ran  swift  and  free,  touching  with  its  current 
high  and  difficult  places,  the  ardent  friendship  of  man  with 
man  was  one.  To  elevate  it  above  mere  personal  regard  a 
£Ind  of  Neo  -  Platoni&ia-,  was  at  hand,  which  represented 
Beauty  and  Love  incarnated  in  a  human  creature  as  earthly 
rents  of  the  Divinity.  "  It  was  then  not  uncommon," 
observes  the  sober  Dyce,  "for  one  man  to  write  verses  to 
another  in  a  strain  of  such  tender  affection  as  fully  warrants 
us  in  terming  them  amatory."  Montaigne,  not  prone  to 
take  up  extreme  positions,  writes  of  his  dead  Estienne  de  la 
Boe'tie  with  passionate  tenderness  which  will  not  hear  of 
moderation.  The  haughtiest  spirit  of  Italy,  Michael  Angelo, 
does  homage  to  the  worth  and  beauty  of  young  Tommaso 
Cavalieri  in  such  words  as  these  : 

'*  Heavenward  your  spirit  stirreth  me  to  strain ; 
E'en  as  you  will  I  blush  and  blanch  again, 
Freeze  in  the  sun,  burn  'neath  a  frosty  sky, 
Your  will  includes  and  is  the  lord  of  mine." 

The  learned  Languet  writes  to  young  Philip  Sidney : 
"  Your  portrait  I  kept  with  me  some  hours  to  feast  my  eyes 
on  it,  but  my  appetite  was  rather  increased  than  diminished 
by  the  sight."  And  Sidney  to  his  guardian  friend:  "The 
chief  object  of  my  life,  next  to  the  everlasting  blessedness 
of  heaven,  will  always  be  the  enjoyment  of  true  friendship, 
and  there  you  shall  have  the  chiefest  place."  "Some," 
said  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  live  under  the  line,  and  the  beams  of 
friendship  in  that  position  are  imminent  and  perpendicular." 
"Some  have  only  a  dark  day  and  a  long  night  from  him  [the 
Sun],  snows  and  white  cattle,  a  miserable  life  and  a  perpet- 
ual harvest  of  Catarrhes  and  Consumptions,  apoplexies  and 
dead  palsies ;  but  some  have  splendid  fires  and  aromatick 
spices,  rich  wines  and  well  -  digested  fruits,  great  wit  and 
great  courage,  because  they  dwell  in  his  eye  and  look  in 
his  face  and  are  the  Courtiers  of  the  Sun,  and  wait  upon 
him  in  his  Chambers  of  the  East  j  just  so  it  is  in  friend- 


INTRODUCTION.  I7 

ship."  Was  Shakspere  less  a  courtier  of  the  sun  than  Lan- 
guet  or  Michael  Angelo  ? 

If  we  accept  the  obvious  reading  of  the  Sonnets,  we  must 
believe  that  Shakspere  at  some  time  of  his  life  was  snared 
by  ajjvoman^the  reverse  of  beautiful  according  to  the  con- 
/  ventional  Elizabethan  standard  —  dark -haired,  dark -eyed, 
pale-cheeked  (132);  skilled  in  touching  the  virginal  (128); 
skilled  also  in  playing  on  the  heart  of  man  ;  who  could  at- 
tract and  repel,  irritate  and  soothe,  join  reproach  with  ca- 
ress (145) ;  a  woman  faithless  to  her  vow  in  wedlock  (152). 
Through  her  no  calm  of  joy  came  to  him  ;  his  life  ran 
quicker  but  more  troubled  through  her  spell,  and  she  min- 
gled strange  bitterness  with  its  waters.  Mistress  of  herself 
and  of  her  art,  she  turned  when  it  pleased  her  from  the  play- 
er to  capture  a  more  distinguished  prize,  his  friend.  For  a 
while  Shakspere  was  kept  in  the  torture  of  doubt  and  sus- 
picion ;  then  confession  and  tears  were  offered  by  the 
youth.  The  wound  had  gone  deep  into  Shakspere's  heart: 

"  Love  knows  it  is  a  greater  grief 
To  bear  love's  wrong  than  hate's  known  injury." 

But,  delivering  himself  from  the  intemperance  of  wrath,  he 
could  forgive  a  young  man  beguiled  and  led  astray.  Through 
further  difficulties  and  estrangements  their  friendship  trav- 
elled on  to  a  fortunate  repose.  The  series  of  sonnets 
which  is  its  record  climbs  to  a  high,  sunlit  resting-place. 
The  other  series,  which  records  his  passion  for  a  dark 
temptress,  is  a  whirl  of  moral  chaos.  Whether  to  dismiss 
him,  or  to  draw  him  farther  on,  the  woman  had  urged  upon 
him  the  claims  of  conscience  and  duty  ;  in  the  latest  sonnets 
— if  this  series  be  arranged  in  chronological  order — Shak- 
spere's passion,  grown  bitter  and  scornful  (151,  152),  strives, 
once  for  all,  to  defy  and  wrestle  down  his  better  will. 

Shakspere  of  the  Sonnets  is  not  the  Shakspere  serenely 
victorious,  infinitely  charitable,  wise  with  all  wisdom  of  the 
intellect  and  the  heart,  whom  we  know  through  The  Tempest 

B 


X8  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

and  King  Henry  VIII.  He  is  the  Shakspere  of  Venus  and 
Adonis  and  Romeo  and  yuliet,  on  his  way  to  acquire  some  of 
the  dark  experience  of  Measure  for  Measure,  and  the  bitter 
learning  of  Troilus  and  Cressida.  Shakspere's  writings  as- 
sure us  that  in  the  main  his  eye  was  fixed  on  the  true  ends 
of  life  ;  but  they  do  not  lead  us  to  believe  that  he  was  in- 
accessible to  temptations  of  the  senses,  the  heart,  and  the 
imagination.  We  can  only  guess  the  frailty  that  accompa- 
nied such  strength,  the  risks  that  attended  such  high  pow- 
ers ;  immense  demands  on  life,  vast  ardours,  and  then  the 
void  hour,  the  deep  dejection.  There  appears  to  have  been 
a  time  in  his  life  when  the  springs  of  faith  and  hope  had 
almost  ceased  to  flow  ;  and  he  recovered  these  not  by  flying 
from  reality  and  life,  but  by  driving  his  shafts  deeper  tow- 
ards the  centre  of  things.  So  Ulysses  was  transformed 
into  Prospero,  worldly  wisdom  into  spiritual  insight.  Such 
ideal  purity  as  Milton's  was  not  possessed  nor  sought  by 
Shakspere;  among  these  sonnets,  one  or  two  might  be 
spoken  by  Mercutio,  when  his  wit  of  cheveril  was  stretched 
to  an  ell  broad.  To  compensate — Shakspere  knew  men  and 
women  a  good  deal  better  than  did  Milton,  and  probably 
no  patches  of  his  life  are  quite  as  unprofitably  ugly  as  some 
which  disfigured  the  life  of  the  great  idealist.  His  daughter 
could  love  and  honour  Shakspere's  memory.  Lamentable 
it  is,  if  he  was  taken  in  the  toils,  but  at  least  we  know  that 
he  escaped  all  toils  before  the  end.  May  we  dare  to  con- 
jecture that  Cleopatra,  queen  and  courtesan,  black  from 
"  Phoebus'  amorous  pinches,"  a  "  lass  unparalleled,"  has 
some  kinship  through  the  imagination  with  our  dark  lady 
of  the  virginal?  "Would  I  had  never  seen  her,"  sighs  out 
Antony,  and  the  shrewd  onlooker  Enobarbus  replies,  "  O, 
sir,  you  had  then  left  unseen  a  wonderful  piece  of  work ; 
which  not  to  have  been  blest  withal  would  have  discredited 
your  travel." 

Shakspere  did  not,  in  Byron's  manner,  invite  the  world  to 


INTRODUCTION.  lg 

gaze  upon  his  trespass  and  his  griefs.  Setting  aside  two 
pieces  printed  by  a  pirate  in  1599,  not  one  of  these  poems, 
as  far  as  we  know,  saw  the  light  until  long  after  they  were 
written,  according  to  the  most  probable  chronology,  and 
when  in  1609  the  volume  entitled  "  Shake-speares  Sonnets" 
was  issued,  it  had,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  neither  the 
superintendence  nor  the  consent  of  the  author.*  Yet  their 
literary  merits  entitled  these  poems  to  publication,  and  Shak- 
spere's  verse  was  popular.  If  they  were  written  on  fanciful 
themes,  why  were  the  Sonnets  held  so  long  in  reserve?  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  were  connected  with  real  persons, 
and  painful  incidents,  it  was  natural  that  they  should  not 
pass  beyond  the  private  friends  of  their  possessor. 

But  the  Sonnets  of  Shakspere,  it  is  said,  lack  inward  unity. 
Some  might  well  be  addressed  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  some  to 
Anne  Hathaway,  some  to  his  boy  Hamnet,  some  to  the  Earl 
of  Pembroke  or  the  Earl  of  Southampton ;  it  is  impossible 
to  make  all  these  poems  (1-126)  apply  to  a  single  person. 
Difficulties  of  this  kind  may  perplex  a  painful  commentator, 
but  would  hardly  occur  to  a  lover  or  a  friend  living  "  where 
the  beams  of  friendship  are  imminent."  The  youth  ad- 
dressed by  Shakspere  is  "  the  master-mistress  of  his  passion  " 
(20)  ;  summing  up  the  perfections  of  man  and  woman,  of 
Helen  and  Adonis  (53) ;  a  liege,  and  yet  through  love  a  com- 
rade ;  in  years  a  boy,  cherished  as  a  son  might  be;  in  will 
a  man,  with  all  the  power  which  rank  and  beauty  give. 
Love,  aching  with  its  own  monotony,  invites  imagination  to 
invest  it  in  changeful  forms.  Besides,  the  varying  feelings 
of  at  least  three  years  (104) — three  years  of  loss  and  gain, 
of  love,  wrong,  wrath,  sorrow,  repentance,  forgiveness,  per- 
fected union — are  uttered  in  the  Sonnets.  When  Shakspere 
began  to  write,  his  friend  had  the  untried  innocence  of  boy- 
hood and  an  unspotted  fame;  afterwards  came  the  offence 

*  The  quarto  of  1609,  though  not  carelessly  printed,  is  far  less  accu- 
rate than  Venus  and  Adonis. 


20  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

and  the  dishonour.  And  the  loving  heart  practised  upon  it- 
self the  piteous  frauds  of  wounded  affection :  now  it  can 
credit  no  evil  of  the  beloved,  now  it  must  believe  the  worst. 
While  the  world  knows  nothing  but  praise  for  one  so  dear,  a. 
private  injury  goes  deep  into  the  soul  ;  when  the  world  as- 
sails his  reputation,  straightway  loyalty  revives,  and  even  puts 
a  strain  upon  itself  to  hide  each  imperfection  from  view. 

A  painstaking  student  of  the  Sonnets,  Henry  Brown,  was 
of  opinion  that  Shakspere  intended  in  these  poems  to  satirize 
the  sonnet-writers  of  his  time,  and  in  particular  his  contem- 
poraries, Drayton  and  John  Davies  of  Hereford.  Professor 
Minto,  while  accepting  the  series  (1-126)  as  of  serious  import, 
regards  the  sonnets  addressed  to  a  woman  (127-152)  as 
"  exercises  of  skill  undertaken  in  a  spirit  of  wanton  defiance 
and  derision  of  commonplace."  Certainly,  if  Shakspere  is  a 
satirist  in  i  to  126,  his  irony  is  deep  ;  the  malicious  smile  was 
not  noticed  during  two  centuries  and  a  half.  The  poems 
are  in  the  taste  of  the  time;  less  extravagant  and  less  full 
of  conceits  than  many  other  Elizabethan  collections,  more 
distinguished  by  exquisite  imagination,  and  all  that  betokens 
genuine  feeling;  they  are,  as  far  as  manner  goes,  such  son- 
nets as  Daniel  might  have  chosen  to  write  if  he  had  had  the 
imagination  and  the  heart  of  Shakspere.  All  that  is  quaint 
or  contorted  or  "  conceited  "  in  them  can  be  paralleled  from 
passages  of  early  plays  of  Shakspere,  such  as  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  and  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  where  assuredly  no 
satirical  intention  is  discoverable.  In  the  sonnets  127  to  154 
•  Shakspere  addresses  a  woman  to  whom  it  is  impossible  to 
pay  the  conventional  homage  of  sonneteers  ;  he  cannot  tell 
her  that  her  cheeks  are  lilies  and  roses,  her  breast  is  of  snow, 
her  heart  is  chaste  and  cold  as  ice.  Yet  he  loves  her,  and 
will  give  her  tribute  of  verse.  He  praises  her  precisely  as  a 
woman  who,  without  beauty,  is  clever  and  charming,  and  a 
coquette,  would  choose  to  be  praised.  True,  she  owns  no 
commonplace  attractions ;  she  is  no  pink  and  white  goddess ; 


IN  TROD  UCTION.  2 1 

all  her  imperfections  he  sees  ;  yet  she  can  fascinate  by  some 
nameless  spell;  she  can  turn  the  heart  hot  or  cold ;  if  she  is 
not  beautiful,  it  is  because  something  more  rare  and  fine 
takes  the  place  of  beauty.  She  angers  her  lover;  he  de- 
clares to  her  face  that  she  is  odious,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment he  is  at  her  feet. 

A  writer  whose  distinction  it  is  to  have  produced  the 
largest  book  upon  the  Sonnets,  Mr.  Gerald  Massey,  holds 
that  he  has  rescued  Shakspere's  memory  from  shame  by  the 
discovery  of  a  secret  history,  legible  in  these  poems  to  rightly 
illuminated  eyes.*  In  1592,  according  to  this  theory,  Shak- 
spere  began  to  address  pieces  in  sonnet-form  to  his  patron 
Southampton.  Presently  the  earl  engaged  the  poet  to  write 
love  sonnets  on  his  behalf  to  Elizabeth  Vernon  ;  assuming 
also  the  feelings  of  Elizabeth  Vernon,  Shakspere  wrote  dra- 
matic sonnets,  as  if  in  her  person,  to  the  earl.  The  table- 
book  containing  Shakspere's  autograph  sonnets  was  given 
by  Southampton  to  Pembroke,  and  at  Pembroke's  request 
was  written  the  dark-woman  series ;  for  Pembroke,  although 
authentic  history  knows  nothing  of  the  facts,  was  enamoured 
of  Sidney's  Stella,  now  w,ell  advanced  in  years,  the  unhappy 
Lady  Rich.  A  few  of  the  sonnets  which  pass  for  Shakspere's 
are  really  by  Herbert,  and  he,  the  "  Mr.  W.  H."  of  Thorpe's 
dedication,  is  the  "  only  begetter,"  that  is,  procurer  of  these 
pieces  for  the  publisher.  The  Sonnets  require  re-arrange- 
ment, and  are  grouped  in  an  order  of  his  own  by  Mr.  Massey. 

Mr.  Massey  writes  with  zeal ;  with  a  faith  in  his  own 
opinions  which  finds  scepticism  hard  to  explain  except  on 
some  theory  of  intellectual  or  moral  obliquity;  and  he  ex- 
hibits a  wide,  miscellaneous  reading.  The  one  thing  Mr. 
Massey's  elaborate  theory  seems  to  me  to  lack  is  some  evi- 
dence in  its  support.  His  arguments  may  well  remain  un- 
answered. One  hardly  knows  how  to  tug  at  the  other  end 
of  a  rope  of  sand. 

*  The  first  hint  of  this  theory  was  given  by  Mrs.  Jameson. 
16 


22  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS, 

With  Wordsworth,  Sir  Henry  Taylor,  and  Mr.  Swinburne, 
with  Francois-Victor  Hugo,  with  Kreyssig,  Ulrici,  Gervinus, 
and  Hermann  Isaac,*  with  Boaden,  Armitage  Brown,  and 
Hallam,  with  Furnivall,  Spalding,  Rossetti,  and  Palgrave/I 
believe  that  Shakspere's  Sonnets  express  his  own  feelings  in 
his  own  person.  /  To  whom  they  were  addressed  is  unknown. 
WTe  shall  never  discover  the  name  of  that  woman  who  for  a 
season  could  sound,  as  no  one  else,  the  instrument  in  Shak- 
spere's heart  from  the  lowest  note  to  the  top  of  the  compass. 
To  the  eyes  of  no  diver  among  the  wrecks  of  time  will  that 
curious  talisman  gleam.  Already,  when  Thorpe  dedicated 
these  poems  to  their  "only  begetter,"  she  perhaps  was  lost 
in  the  quick-moving  life  of  London,  to  all  but  a  few,  in  whose 
memory  were  stirred,  as  by  a  forlorn,  small  wind,  the  grey 
ashes  of  a  fire  gone  out.  As  to  the  name  of  Shakspere's 
youthful  friend  and  patron,  we  conjecture  on  slender  evi- 
dence at  the  best.  Setting  claimants  aside  on  whose  behalf 
the  evidence  is  absolutely  none,  except  that  their  Christian 
name  and  surname  begin  with  a  W  and  an  H,  two  remain 
whose  pretensions  have  been  supported  by  accomplished 
advocates.  Drake  (1817),  a  learned  and  refined  writer,  was 
the  first  to  suggest  that  the  friend  addressed  in  Shakspere's 
Sonnets  was  Henry  Wriothesley,  Earl  of  Southampton,  to 
whom  Venus  and  Adonis  was  dedicated  in  1593,  and  in  the 
following  year  Lucrece,  in  words  of  strong  devotion  resem- 
bling those  of  the  twenty-sixth  sonnet.t  B.  Hey  wood  Bright 
(1819),  and  James  Boaden  (1832),  independently  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  Mr.  W.  H.  of  the  dedication,  the 
"  begetter  *'  or  inspirer  of  the  Sonnets,  was  William  Herbert, 

*  A  learned  and  thoughtful  student  of  the  Sonnets.  See  his  articles 
in  Archiv  fur  das  Stndinm  der  Neueren  Sprachen  und  Literaturen,  1878- 

79- 

t  Drake  did  not,  as  is  sometimes  stated,  suppose  that  Mr.  W.  H.  was 
Southampton.  He  took  "  begetter  "  to  mean  obtainer  ;  and  left  Mr.  W. 
H.  unidentified.  Others  hold  that  "  W.  H."  are  the  initials  of  Southamp- 
ton's names  reversed,  as  a  blind  to  the  public*. 


INTRODUCTION.  2;J 

Earl  of  Pembroke,  to  whom,  with  his  brother,  as  two  well- 
known  patrons  of  the  great  dramatist,  his  fellows  Heminge 
and  Condell  dedicated  the  First  Folio.  Wriothesley  was 
born  in  1573,  nine  years  after  Shakspere;  Herbert  in  1580. 
Wriothesley  at  an  early  age  became  the  lover  of  Elizabeth 
Vernon,  needing  therefore' no  entreaties  to  marry  (1-17); 
he  was  not  beautiful ;  he  bore  no  resemblance  to  his  mother 
(3.  9) ;  his  life  was  active,  with  varying  fortunes,  to  which 
allusions  might  be  looked  for  in  the  Sonnets,  such  as  may 
be  found  in  the  verses  of  his  other  poet,  Daniel.  Further,  i 
it  appears  from  the  punning  sonnets  (135  and  143),  that  the  | 
Christian  name  of  Shakspere's  friend  was  the  same  as  his 
own,  Will,  but  Wriothesley's  name  was  Henry.  To  Her- 
bert the  punning  sonnets  and  the  "Mr.  W.  H."  of  the  dedi- 
cation can  be  made  to  apply.  He  was  indeed  a  nobleman 
in  1609,  but  a  nobleman  might  be  styled  Mr. ;  "  Lord  Buck- 
hurst  is  entered  as  M.  Sackville  in  England V  Parnassus  " 
(Minto) ;  or  the  Mr.  may  have  been  meant  to  disguise  the 
truth.  Herbert  was  beautiful ;  was  like  his  illustrious 
mother;  was  brilliant,  accomplished,  licentious;  "the  most 
universally  beloved  and  esteemed,"  says  Clarendon,  "of  any 
man  of  his  age."  Like  Southampton,  he  was  a  patron  of 
poets,  and  he  loved  the  theatre.  In  1599  attempts  were 
unsuccessfully  made  to  induce  him  to  become  a  suitor  for 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  Admiral's  daughter.  So  far  the  bal- 
ance leans  towards  Herbert.  But  his  father  lived  until  1601 
(see  13  and  Notes)  ;  Southampton's  father  died  while  his 
son  was  a  boy;  and  the  date  of  Herbert's  birth  (1580), 
taken  in  connection  with  Meres's  mention  of  sonnets,  and 
the  "Two  loves"  of  the  Passionate  Pilgrim  sonnet  (1599), 
144,  may  well  cause  a  doubt. 

A  clue,  which  promises  to  lead  us  to  clearness,  and  then 
deceives  us  into  deeper  twilight,  is  the  characterization  (78- 
86)  of  a  rival  poet  who  for  a  time  supplanted  Shakspere  in 
his  patron's  regard.  This  rival,  the  "better  spirit"  of  8of 


24  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

was  learned  (78)  ;  dedicated  a  book  to  Shakspere's  patron 
(82);  celebrated  his  beauty  and  knowledge  (82);  in 
"  hymns"  (85)  ;  was  remarkable  for  "the  full  proud  sail  of 
his  great  verse"  (86,80);  was  taught  "by  spirits"  to  write 
"  above  a  mortal  pitch,"  was  nightly  visited  by  "  an  affable 
familiar  ghost "  who  "  gulled  him  with  intelligence  "  (86). 
Here  are  allusions  and  characteristics  which  ought  to  lead 
to  identification.  Yet  in  the  end  we  are  forced  to  confess 
that  the  poet  remains  as  dim  a  figure  as  the  patron. 

Is  it  Spenser?  He  was  learned,  but  what  ghost  was  that 
which  gulled  him?  Is  it  Marlowe?  His  verse  was  proud 
and  full,  and  the  creator  of  Faustus  may  well  have  had  deal- 
ings with  his  own  Mephistophelis,  but  Marlowe  died  in  May, 
1593,  the  year  of  VeJius  and  Adonis.  Is  it  Dray  ton,  or  Nash, 
or  John  Davies  of  Hereford?  Persons  in  search  of  an  in- 
geniously improbable  opinion  may  choose  any  one  of  these. 
Is  it  Daniel?  Daniel's  reputation  stood  high;  he  was  re- 
garded as  a  master  by  Shakspere  in  his  early  poems ;  he 
was  brought  up  at  Wilton,  the  seat  of  the  Pembrokes,  and  in 
1 60 1  he  inscribed  his  Defence  of  Ryme  to  William  Herbert, 
the  Pembroke  family  favoured  astrologers,  and  the  ghost  that 
gulled  Daniel  may  have  been  the  same  that  gulled  Allen, 
Sanclford,  and  Dr.  Dee,  and  through  them  gulled  Herbert. 
Here  is  at  least  a  clever  guess,  and  Boaden  is  again  the 
guesser.  But  Professor  Minto  makes  a  guess  even  more 
fortunate.  No  Elizabethan  poet  wrote  ampler  verse,  none 
scorned  "  ignorance  "  more,  or  more  haughtily  asserted  his 
learning  than  Chapman.  In  The  Tears  of  Peace  (1609), 
Homer  as  a  spirit  visits  and  inspires,  him  ;  the  claim  to  such 
inspiration  may  have  been  often  made  by  the  translator  of 
Homer  in  earlier  years.  Chapman  was  pre-eminently  the 
poet  of  Night.  The  Shadow  of  Night,  with  the  motto  "  Ver- 
sus mei  habebunt  aliquantum  Noctis,"  appeared  in  1594 ; 
the  title-page  describes  it  as  containing  "  two  poetical! 
Hymnes"  In  the  dedication  Chapman  assails  unlearned 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

"passion-driven  men,"  "hide-bound  with  affection  to  great 
men's  fancies,"  and  ridicules  the  alleged  eternity  of  their 
"idolatrous  platts  for  riches."  "Now  what  a  supereroga- 
tion in  wit  this  is,  to  think  Skill  so  mightily  pierced  with 
their  loves,  that  she  should  prostitutely  show  them  her 
secrets,  when  she  will  scarcely  be  looked  upon  by  others, 
but  with  invocation,  fasting,  watching;  yea,  not  without  hav- 
ing drops  of  their  souls  like  a  heavenly  familiar  "  Of  Chap- 
man's Homer  a  part  appeared  in  1596;  dedicatory  sonnets 
in  a  later  edition  are  addressed  to  both  Southampton  and 
Pembroke. 

Mr.  W.  II.,  the  only  begetter  of  the  Sonnets,  remains  un- 
known. Even  the  meaning  of  the  word  "begetter"  is  in 
dispute.  "  I  have  some  cousin-germans  at  court,"  writes 
Decker  in  Satiromastix,  "  shall  beget  you  the  reversion  of  the 
master  of  the  king's  revels,"  where  beget  evidently  means 
procure.  Was  the  "  begetter  "  of  the  Sonnets,  then,  the  per- 
son who  procured  them  for  Thorpe  ?  I  cannot  think  so ; 
there  is  special  point  in  the  choice  of  the  word  "begetter," 
if  the  dedication  be  addressed  to  the  person  who  inspired 
the  poems  and  for  whom  they  were  written.  Eternity  through 
offspring  is  what  Shakspere  most  desires  for  his  friend  ;  if  he 
will  not  beget  a  child,  then  he  is  promised  eternity  in  verse 
by  his  poet — in  verse  "whose  influence  is  thine,  and  born 
of  thee"  (78).  Thus  was  Mr.  W.  H.  the  begetter  of  these 
poems,  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  complimentary  ded- 
ication he  might  well  be  termed  the  only  begetter. 

I  have  no  space  to  consider  suggestions  which  seem  to 
me  of  little  weight—that  W.  H.  is  a  misprint  for  W.  S., 
meaning  William  Shakspere;  that  "W.  H.  all"  should  be 
read  "W.  Hall;"  that  a  full  stop  should  be  placed  after 
"wisheth,"  making  Mr.  W.  H.,  perhaps  William  Herbert  or 
William  Hathaway,  the  wisher  of  happiness  to  Southamp- 
ton, the  only  begetter  (Ph.  Chasles  and  Bolton  Conu>y); 
nor  do  I  think  we  need  argue  for  or  against  the  supposition 


26  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

of  a  painful  German  commentator  (Barnstorff),  that  Mr.  W. 
H.  is  none  other  than  Mr.  William  Himself.  When  Thorpe 
uses  the  words  "  the  adventurer  in  setting  forth,"  perhaps 
he  meant  to  compare  himself  to  one  of  the  young  volun- 
teers in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  and  James,  who  embarked  on 
naval  enterprises,  hoping  to  make  their  fortunes  by  discov- 
ery or  conquest ;  so  he  with  good  wishes  took  his  risk  on 
the  sea  of  public  favour  in  this  light  venture  of  the  Son- 
nets.1* 

The  date  at  which  the  Sonnets  were  written,  like  their  ori- 
gin, is  uncertain.  In  Willobie*  s  Avisa,  1594,  in  commen- 
datory verse  prefixed  to  which  occurs  the  earliest  printed 
mention  of  Shakspere  by  name,  H.  W.  (Henry  Willobie),  pin- 
ing with  love  for  Avisa,  bewrays  his  disease  to  his  familiar 
friend  W.  S.,  "  who  not  long  before  had  tried  the  curtesy  of 
the  like  passion,  and  was  now  newly  recovered  of  the  like 
infection."  W.  S.  encourages  his  friend  in  a  passion  which 
he  knows  must  be  hopeless,  intending  to  view  this  "loving 
Comedy  "  from  far  off,  in  order  to  learn  "  whether  it  would 
sort  to  a  happier  end  for  this  new  actor  than  it  did  for  the 
old  player."  From  Canto  44  to  48  of  Avisa,  W.  S.  addresses 
H.  W.  on  his  love-affair,  and  H.  W.  replies.  It  is  remarka- 
ble that  Canto  47  in  form  and  substance  bears  resemblance 
to  the  stanzas  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  beginning  "  Whenas 
thine  eye  hath  chose  the  dame."  Assuming  that  W.  S.  is 
William  Shakespeare,  we  learn  that  he  had  loved  unwisely, 
been  laughed  at,  and  recovered  from  the  infection  of  his 
passion  before  the  end  of  1594.  It  seemed  impossible  to 
pass  by  a  poem  which  has  been  described  as  "  the  one  con- 
temporary book  which  has  ever  been  supposed  to  throw  any 
direct  or  indirect  light  on  the  mystic  matter"  of  the  Son- 
nets. But  although  the  reference  to  W.  S.,  his  passion  for 
Avisa  fair  and  chaste,  and  his  recovery,  be  matter  of  interest 
to  inquirers  after  Shakspere's  life,  Willobie 's  Avisa  seems  to 
*  See  Dr.  Grosart's  Donne,  vol.  ii.  pp.  45,  46. 


INTRODUCTION.  2_ 

me  to  have  no  point  of  connection  with  the  Sonnets  of  Shak- 
spere.*  .  .  . 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  by  English,  French, 
and  German  students  to  place  the  Sonnets  in  a  new  and 
better  order,  of  which  attempts  no  two  agree  between  them- 
selves. That  the  Sonnets  are  not  printed  in  the  quarto, 
1609,  at  haphazard,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  Envoy, 
126,  is  rightly  placed;  that  poems  addressed  to  a  mistress 
follow  those  addressed  to  a  friend  ;  and  that  the  two  Cupid 
and  Dian  sonnets  stand  together  at  the  close.  A  nearer 
view  makes  it  apparent  that  in  the  first  series  (1-126)  a  con- 
tinuous story  is  conducted  through  various  stages  to  its  ter- 
mination ;  a  more  minute  inspection  discovers  points  of 
contact  or  connection  between  sonnet  and  sonnet,  and  a 
natural  sequence  of  thought,  passion,  and  imagery.  We  are 
in  the  end  convinced  that  no  arrangement  which  has  been 
proposed  is  as  good  as  that  of  the  quarto.  But  the  force 
of  this  remark  seems  to  me  to  apply  with  certainty  only  to 
Sonnets  1-126.  The  second  series  (127-154),  although  some 
of  its  pieces  are  evidently  connected  with  those  which  stand 
near  them,  does  not  exhibit  a  like  intelligible  sequence  :  a 
better  arrangement  may,  perhaps,  be  found ;  or,  it  may  be, 
no  possible  arrangement  can  educe  order  out  of  the  strug- 
gles between  will  and  judgment,  between  blood  and  reason  ; 
tumult  and  chaos  are,  perhaps,  a  portion  of  their  life  and 
being. 

A  piece  of  evidence  confirming  the  opinion  here  advanced 
will  be  found  in  the  use  of  thou  and  you  by  Shakspere  as  a 
mode  of  address  to  his  friend.  Why  thou  or  you  is  chosen, 
is  not  always  explicable ;  sometimes  the  choice  seems  to  be 
determined  by  considerations  of  euphony ;  sometimes  of 

*  The  force  of  the  allusion  to  tragedy  and  comedy  is  weakened  by  the 
fact  that  we  find  in  Alcilia  (1595)  the  course  of  love  spoken  of  as  a  tragi- 
comedy, where  no  reference  to  a  real  actor  on  the  stage  is  intended  ; 
"Sic  incipit  stultorum  Tragicomoedia." 


28  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

rhyme;  sometimes  intimate  affection  seems  to  indicate  the 
use  of  you,  and  respectful  homage  that  of  thou  ;  but  this  is 
by  no  means  invariable.  What  I  would  call  attention  to, 
however,  as  exhibiting  something  like  order  and  progress  in 
the  arrangement  of  1609,  is  this:  that  in  the  first  fifty  son- 
nets, you  is  of  extremely  rare  occurrence,  in  the  second  fifty 
you  and  thou  alternate  in  little  groups  of  sonnets,  thou  hav- 
ing still  a  preponderance,  but  now  only  a  slight  preponder- 
ance ;  in  the  remaining  twenty-six, you  becomes  the  ordinary 
mode  of  address,  and  thou  the  exception.  In  the  sonnets  to 
a  mistress,  thou  is  invariably  employed.  A  few  sonnets  of  the 
first  series,  as  63-68,  have  "  my  love,"  and  the  third  person 
throughout.* 

Whether  idealizin-g  reality  or  wholly  fanciful,  an  Eliza- 
bethan book  of  sonnets  was — not  always,  but  in  many  in- 
stances— made  up  of  a  chain  or  series  of  poems,  in  a  de- 
signed or  natural  sequence,  viewing  in  various  aspects  a 
single  theme,  or  carrying  on  a  love-story  to  its  issue,  pros- 
perous or  the  reverse.  Sometimes  advance  is  made  through 
the  need  of  discovering  new  points  of  view,  and  the  move- 
ment, always  delayed,  is  rather  in  a  circuit  than  straight  for- 
ward. In  Spenser's  Amoretti  we  read  the  progress  of  love 
from  humility  through  hope  to  conquest.  In  Astrophel  and 

*  I  cannot  here  present  detailed  statistics.1  'J'hou  and  you  are  to  be 
considered  only  when  addressing  friend  or  lover,  not  Time,  the  Muse, 
etc.  Five  sets  of  sonnets  may  then  be  distinguished  :  I.  Using  tJion. 
2.  Using  you.  3.  Using  neither,  but  belonging  to  a  thon  group.  4.  Using 
neither,  but  belonging  to  a  you  group.  5.  Using  both  (24).  I  had  hoped 
that  this  investigation  was  left  to  form  one  of  my  gleanings.  But  Pro- 
fessor Goedeke,  in  the  Deutsche  Ruudschau,  March,  1877,  looked  into  the 
matter ;  his  results  seem  to  me  vitiated  by  an  arbitrary  division  of  the 
sonnets  using  neither  tJiou  nor  you  into  groups  of  eleven  and  twelve,  and 
by  a  fantastic  theory  that  Shakspere  wrote  his  sonnets  in  books  or  groups 
of  fourteen  each. 

1  In  his  larger  ed. .  published  later,  Dowden  adds  a  tabular  classification  of  the  Son' 
nets  under  the  five  heads  mentioned — Ed. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Stella,  we  read  the  story  of  passion  struggling  with  untoward 
fate,  yet  at  last  mastered  by  the  resolve  to  do  high  deeds: 

"  Sweet !  for  a  while  give  respite  to  my  heart 
Which  pants  as  though  it  still  would  leap  to  thee ; 
And  on  my  thoughts  give  thy  Lieutenancy 
To  this  great  Cause." 

In  Parthenophil  and Parthenophe  the  story  is  of  a  new  love 
supplanting  an  old,  of  hot  and  cold  fevers,  of  despair,  and, 
as  last  effort  of  the  desperate  lover,  of  an  imagined  attempt 
to  subdue  the  affections  of  his  cruel  lady  by  magic  art.  But 
in  reading  Sidney,  Spenser,  Barnes,  and  still  more,  Watson, 
Constable,  Drayton,  and  others,  although  a  large  element  of 
the  art-poetry  of  the  Renascence  is  common  to  them  and 
Shakspere,  the  student  of  Shakspere's  Sonnets  does  not  feel 
at  home.  It  is  when  we  open  Daniel's  Delia  that  we  recog- 
nize close  kinship.  The  manner  is  the  same,  though  the 
master  proves  himself  of  tardier  imagination  and  less  ardent 
temper.  Diction,  imagery,  rhymes,  and,  in  sonnets  of  like 
form,  versification,  distinctly  resemble  those  of  Shakspere. 
Malone  was  surely  right  when  he  recognized  in  Daniel  the 
master  of  Shakspere  as  a  writer  of  sonnets — a  master  quickly 
excelled  by  his  pupil.  And  it  is  in  Daniel  that  we  find  son- 
net starting  from  sonnet  almost  in  Shakspere's  manner,  only 
that  Daniel  often  links  poem  with  poem  in  more  formal  wise, 
the  last  or  the  penultimate  line  of  one  poem  supplying  the 
first  line  of  that  which  immediately  follows. 

Let  us  attempt  to  trace  briefly  the  sequence  of  incidents 
and  feelings  in  the  Sonnets  1-126.  A  young  man,  beautiful, 
brilliant,  and  accomplished,  is  the  heir  of  a  great  house  ;  he 
is  exposed  to  temptations  of  youth,  and  wealth,  and  rank. 
Possibly  his  mother  desires  to  see  him  married  ;  certainly  it 
is  the  desire  of  his  friend.  "I  should  be  glad  if  you  were 
caught,"  writes  Languet  to  Philip  Sidney,  "  that  so  you  might 
give  to  your  country  sons  like  yourself."  "  If  you  marry  a 
wife,  and  if  you  beget  children  like  yourself,  you  will  be  do 


3o  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

ing  better  service  to  your  country  than  if  you  were  to  cut  the 
throats  of  a  thousand  Spaniards  and  Frenchmen."  "  '  Sir,' 
said  Crcesus  to  Cambyses,"  Languet  writes  to  Sidney,  now 
aged  twenty-four,  "  '  I  consider  your  father  must  be  held  your 
better,  because  he  was  the  father  of  an  admirable  prince, 
whereas  you  have  as  yet  no  son  like  yourself.' "  It  is  in 
the  manner  of  Sidney's  own  Cecropia  that  Shakspere  urges 
marriage  upon  his  friend.*  "  Nature  when  you  were  first 
born,  vowed  you  a  woman,  and  as  she  made  you  child  of  a 
mother,  so*to  do  your  best  to  be  mother  of  a  child  "  (Sonnet 
13.  14);  "she  gave  you  beauty  to  move  love;  she  gave  you 
wit  to  know  love;  she  gave  you  an  excellent  body  to  reward 
love  ;  which  kind  of  liberal  rewarding  is  crowned  with  an 
unspeakable  felicity.  For  this  as  it  bindeth  the  receiver,  so 
it  makes  happy  the  bestower ;  this  doth  not  impoverish,  but 
enrich  the  giver  (6.  6).  O  the  comfort  of  comforts,  to  see 
your  children  grow  up,  in  whom  you  are  as  it  were  eter- 
nized !  .  .  .  Have  you  seen  a  pure  Rose-water  kept  in  a  crys- 
tal glass,  how  fine  it  looks,  how  sweet  it  smells,  while  that 
beautiful  glass  imprisons  it !  Break  the  prison  and  let  the 
water  take  his  own  course,  doth  it  not  embrace  the  dust,  ancl 
lose  all  his  former  sweetness  and  fairness ;  truly  so  are  we, 
if  we  have  not  the  stay,  rather  than  the  restraint  of  Crystal- 
line marriage  (5) ;  .  .  .  And  is  a  solitary  life  as  good  as  this? 
then  can  one  string  make  as  good  music  as  a  consort  (8)." 

In  like  manner  Shakspere  urges  the  youth  to  perpetuate 
his  beauty  in  offspring  (1—17).!  But  if  Will  refuses,  then 
his  poet  will  make  war  against  Time  and  Decay,  and  confer 
immortality  upon  his  beloved  one  by  Verse  (15-19).  Will 
is  the  pattern  and  exemplar  of  human  beauty  (19),  so  unit- 
ing in  himself  the  perfections  of  man  and  woman  (20) ;  this 

*  Arcadia,  lib.  iii.  Noticed  by  Mr.  Massey  in  his  Shakes  pear e^s  Son- 
nets and  his  Private  Friends,  pp.  36,  37. 

t  In  what  follows,  to  avoid  the  confusion  of  he  and  himt  we  call  Shak- 
spere's  friend,  as  he  is  called  in  135,  Will. 


INTRODUCTION.  ^l 

is  no  extravagant  praise,  but  simple  truth  (21).  And  such  a 
being  has  exchanged  love  with  Shakspere  (22),  who  must 
needs  be  silent  with  excess  of  passion  (23),  cherishing  in 
his  heart  the  image  of  his  friend's  beauty  (24),  but  holding 
still  more  dear  the  love  from  which  no  unkind  fortune  can 
ever  separate  him  (25).  Here  affairs  of  his  own  compel 
Shakspere  to  a  journey  which  removes  him  from  Will  (26, 
27).  Sleepless  at  night,  and  toiling  by  day,  he  thinks  of  the 
absent  one  (27,  28);  grieving  for  his  own  poor  estate  (29), 
and  the  death  of  friends,  but  finding  in  the  one  beloved 
^amends  for  all  (30,  31);  and  so  Shakspere  commends  to 
his  friend  his  poor  verses  as  a  token  of  affection  which  may 
survive  if  he  himself  should  die  (32).  At  this  point  the 
mood  changes — in  his  absence  his  friend  has  been  false  to 
friendship  (33) ;  now,  indeed,  Will  would  let  the  sunshine 
of  his  favour  beam  out  again,  but  that  will  not  cure  the  dis- 
grace ;  tears  and  penitence  are  fitter  (34)  ;  and  for  sake  of 
such  tears  Will  shall  be  forgiven  (35),  but  henceforth  their 
lives  must  run  apart  (36)  ;  Shakspere,  separated  from  Will, 
can  look  on  and  rejoice  in  his  friend's  happiness  and  honour 
(37),  singing  his  praise  in  verse  (38),  which  he  could  not  do 
if  they  were  so  united  that  to  praise  his  frie.nd  were  self- 
praise  (39)  ;  separated  they  must  be,  and  even  their  loves 
be  no  longer  one ;  Shakspere  can  now  give  his  love,  even 
her  he  loved,  to  the  gentle  thief;  wronged  though  he  is,  he 
will  still  hold  Will  dear  (40) ;  what  is  he  but  a  boy  whom'a 
woman  has  beguiled  (41)?  and  for  both,  for  friend  and  mis- 
tress, in  the  midst  of  his  pain,  he  will  try  to  feign  excuses 
(42).  Here  there  seems  to  be  a  gap  of  time.  The  Sonnets 
begin  again  in  absence,  and  some  students  have  called  this, 
perhaps  rightly,  the  Second  Absence  (43  fol.).  His  friend 
continues  as  dear  as  ever,  but  confidence  is  shaken,  and  a 
deep  distrust  begins  to  grow  (48).  What  right  indeed  has 
a  poor  player  to  claim  constancy  and  love  (49)  ?  He  is  on 
a  journey  which  removes  him  from  Will  (50,  51).  His 


32  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONATETS. 

friend  perhaps  professes  unshaken  loyalty,  for  Shakspere 
now  takes  heart,  and  praises  Will's  truth  (53,  54) — takes 
heart,  and  believes  that  his  own  verse  will  forever  keep 
that  truth  in  mind.  He  will  endure  the  pain  of  absence, 
and  have  no  jealous  thoughts  (57,  58) ;  striving  to  honour 
his  friend  in  song  better  than  ever  man  was  honoured  be- 
fore (59) ;  in  song  which  shall  outlast  the  revolutions  of 
time  (60).  Still  he  cannot  quite  get  rid  of  jealous  fears 
(61) ;  and  yet,  what  right  has  one  so  worn  by  years  and 
care  to  claim  all  a  young  man's  love  (62)  ?  Will,  too,  in  his 
turn  must  fade,  but  his  beauty  will  survive  in  verse  (63). 
Alas!  to  think  that  death  will  take  away  the  beloved  one 
(64) ;  nothing  but  verse  can  defeat  time  and  decay  (65). 
For  his  own  part  Shakspere  would  willingly  die,  were  it  not 
that,  dying,  he  would  leave  his  friend  alone  in  an  evil  world 
(66).  Why  should  one  so  beautiful  live  to  grace  this  ill 
world  (67)  except  as  a  survival  of  the  genuine  beauty  of  the 
good  old  times  (68) ;  yet  beautiful  as  he  is,  he  is  blamed, 
for  careless  living  (69),  but  surely  this  must  be  slander  (70). 
Shakspere  here  returns  to  the  thought  of  his  own  death  : 
hen  I  leave  this  vile  world,  he  says,  let  me  be  forgotten 
(71,  72) ;  and  my  death  is  not  very  far  off  (73) ;  but  when 
I  die  my  spirit  still  lives  in  my  verse  (74).  A  new  group 
seems  to  begin  with  75.  Shakspere  loves  his  friend  as  a 
miser  loves  his  gold,  fearing  it  may  be  stolen  (fearing  a  rival 
poet?).  His  verse  is  monotonous  and  old-fashioned  (not 
like  the  rival's  verse?)  (76);  so  he  sends  Will  his  manu- 
script book  unfilled,  which  Will  may  fill,  if  he  please,  with 
verse  of  his  own  ;  Shakspere  chooses  to  sing  no  more  of 
Beauty  and  of  Time  ;  Will's  glass  and  dial  may  inform  him 
henceforth  on  these  topics  (77).  The  rival  poet  has  now 
won  the  first  place  in  Will's  esteem  (78-86).  Shakspere 
must  bid  his  friend  farewell  (87).  If  Will  should  scorn  him, 
Shakspere  will  side  against  himself  (88,  89).  But  if  his 
friend  is  ever  to  hate  him,  let  it  be  at  -once,  that  the  bitter- 


INTRODUCTION.     .  ^ 

ness  of  death  may  soon  be  past  (90).  He  has  dared  to  say 
farewell,  yet  his  friend's  love  is  all  the  world  to  Shakspere, 
and  the  fear  of  losing  him  is  misery  (91);  but  he  cannot 
really  lose  his  friend,  for  death  would  come  quickly  to  save 
him  from  such  grief;  and  yet  Will  may  be  false  and  Shak- 
spere  never  know  it  (92) ;  so  his  friend,  fair  in  seeming, 
false  within,  would  be  like  Eve's  apple  (93) ;  it  is  to  such 
self-contained,  passionless  persons  that  nature  intrusts  her 
rarest  gifts  of  grace  and  beauty  •  yet  vicious  self-indulgence 
will  spoil  the  fairest  human  soul  (94).  So  let  Will  beware 
of  his  youthful  vices,  already  whispered  by  the  lips  of  men 
(95) ;  true,  he  makes  graces  out  of  faults,  yet  this  should  be 
kept  within  bounds  (96).  Here  again,  perhaps,  is  a  gap  of 
time.*  Sonnets  97-99  are  written  in  absence,  which  some 
students,  perhaps  rightly,  call  Third  Absence.  These  three 
sonnets  are  full  of  tender  affection,  but  at  the  close  of  99 
allusion  is  made  to  Will's  vices,  the  canker  in  the  rose.  After 
this  followed  a  period  of  silence.  In  100  love  begins  to  re- 
new itself,  and  song  awakes.  Shakspere  excuses  his  silence 
(101) ;  his  love  has  grown  while  he  was  silent  (102);  his 
friend's  loveliness  is  better  than  all  song  (103) ;  three  years 
have  passed  since  first  acquaintance ;  Will  looks  as  young 
as  ever,  yet  time  must  insensibly  be  altering  his  beauty  (104). 
Shakspere  sings  with  a  monotony  of  love  (105).  All  former 
singers  praising  knights  and  ladies  only  prophesied  concern- 
ing Will  (106) ;  grief  and  fear  are  past ;  the  two  friends  are 
reconciled  again  ;  and  both  live  forever  united  in  Shak- 
spere's  verse  (107).  Love  has  conquered  time  and  age, 
which  destroy  mere  beauty  of  face  (108).  Shakspere  con- 
fesses his  errors,  but  now  he  has  returned  to  his  home  of 

*  The  last  two  lines  of  96— not  very  appropriate,  I  think,  in  that  sonnet 
— are  identical  with  the  last  two  lines  of  36.  It  occurs  to  me  as  a  possi- 
bility that  the  MS.  in  Thorpe's  hands  may  here  have  been  imperfect,  and 
that  he  filled  it  up  so  far  as  to  complete  96  with  a  couplet  from  an  earlier 

sonnet. 


34  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

love  (109),  he  will  never  wander  again  (no) ;  and  his  past 
faults  were  partly  caused  by  his  temptations  as  a  player  (i  1 1)  ; 
he  cares  for  no  blame  and  no  praise  now  except  those  of  his 
friend  (112).  Once  more  he  is  absent  from  his  friend  (Fourth 
Absence  ?),  but  full  of  loving  thought  of  him  (113,1 14).  Love 
has  grown  and  will  grow  yet  more  (115).  Love  is  uncon- 
querable by  Time  (IT 6).  Shakspere  confesses  again  his 
wanderings  from  his  friend ;  they  were  tests  of  Will's  con- 
stancy (117);  and  they  quickened  his  own  appetite  for  gen- 
uine love  (118).  Ruined  love  rebuilt  is  stronger  than  at  first 
(i  19)  ;  there  were  wrongs  on  both  sides  and  must  now  be  mut- 
ual forgiveness  (120).  Shakspere  is  not  to  be  judged  by  the 
report  of  malicious  censors  (121);  he  has  given  away  his 
friend's  present  of  a  table-book,  because  he  needed  no  re- 
membrancer (122);  records  and  registers  of  time  are  false; 
only  a  lover's  memory  is  to  be  wholly  trusted,  recognizing 
old  things  in  what  seem  new  (123) ;  Shakspere's  love  is  not 
based  on  self-interest,  and  therefore  is  uninfluenced  by  fort- 
une (124) ;  nor  is  it  founded  on  external  beauty  of  form  or 
face,  but  is  simple  love  for  love's  sake  (125).  Will  is  still 
young  and  fair,  yet  he  should  remember  that  the  end  must 
come  at  last  (126). 

Thus  the  series  of  poems  addressed  to  his  friend  closes 
gravely  with  thoughts  of  love  and  death.  The  Sonnets  may 
be  divided  at  pleasure  into  many  smaller  groups,  but  I  find 
it  possible  to  go  on  without  interruption  from  i  to  32;  from 
33  to  42  ;  from  43  to  74;  from  75  to  96;  from  97  to  99;  from 
ioo  to  126.* 

I  do  not  here  attempt  to  trace  a  continuous  sequence  in 
the  sonnets  addressed  to  th'e  dark-haired  woman,  127-154; 
I  doubt  whether  such  continuous  sequence  is  to  be  found  in 

*  Perhaps  there  is  a  break  at  58.  The  most  careful  studies  of  the  se- 
quence of  the  Sonnets  are  Mr.  FurnivalPs,  in  his  preface  to  the  Leopold 
Shakspere  >  and  Mr.  Spa! ding's,  in  The  Gentleman 's  Magazine,  March, 
1878. 


INTRODUCTION,  35 

them ;  but  in  the  Notes  some  points  of  connection  between 
sonnet  and  sonnet  are  pointed  out. 

If  Shakspere  "  unlocked  his  heart  "  in  these  Sonnets,  what 
do  we  learn  from  them  of  that  great  heart  ?  I  cannot  answer 
otherwise  than  in  words  of  my  own  formerly  written.  "  In 
the  Sonnets  we  recognize  three  things:  that  Shakspere  was 
capable  of  measureless  personal  devotion ;  that  he  was  ten- 
derly sensitive,  sensitive  above  all  to  every  diminution  or 
alteration  of  that  love  his  heart  so  eagerly  craved ;  and  that, 
when  wronged,  although  he  suffered  anguish,  he  transcended 
his  private  injury,  and  learned  to  forgive.  .  .  .  The  errors  of 
his  heart  originated  in  his  sensitiveness,  in  his  imagination 
(not  at  first  inured  to  the  hardness  of  fidelity  to  the  fact),  in 
his  quick  consciousness  of  existence,  and  in  the  self-abandon- 
ing devotion  of  his  heart.  There  are  some  noble  lines  by' 
Chapman,  in  which  he  pictures  to  himself  the  life  of  great 
energy,  enthusiasms,  and  passions,  which  forever  stands  upon 
the  edge  of  utmost  danger,  and  yet  forever  remains  in  abso- 
lute security : 

'Give  me  a  spirit  that  on  this  life's  rough  sea 
Loves  to  have  his  sails  fill'd  with  a  lusty  wind 
Even  till  his  sail-yards  tremble,  his  masts  crack, 
And  his  rapt  ship  runs  on  her  side  so  low 
That  she  drinks  water,  and  her  keel  ploughs  air ; 
There  is  no  danger  to  a  man  that  knows 
What  life  and  death  is, — there's  not  any  law 
Exceeds  his  knowledge  ;  neither  is  it  lawful 
That  he  should  stoop  to  any  other  law.' 

"  Such  a  master-spirit,  pressing  forward  under  strained  can- 
vas, was  Shakspere.  If  the  ship  dipped  and  drank  water, 
she  rose  again ;  and  at  length  we  behold  her  within  view  of 
her  haven,  sailing  under  a  large,  calm  wind,  not  without  to- 
kens of  stress  of  weather,  but  if  battered,  yet  unbroken  by 
the  waves."  The  last  plays  of  Shakspere,  The  Tempest,  Cym- 
beline,  Winter's  Tale,  Henry  VIIL,  illuminate  the  Sonnets  and 
justify  the  moral  genius  of  their  writer. 


36  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

[From  Mr.  F.  J.  Furnivairs  Comments  on  the  Sonnets*] 

The  great  question  is,  do  Shakspere's  Sonnets  speak  his 
own  heart  and  thoughts  or  not?  And  were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  many  critics  really  deserving  the  name  of  Shak- 
spere students,  and  not  Shakspere  fools,  have  held  the  Son- 
nets to  be  merely  dramatic,  I  could  not  have  conceived  that 
poems  so  intensely  and  evidently  autobiographic  and  self- 
revealing,  poems  so  one  with  the  spirit  and  inner  meaning 
of  Shakspere's  growth  and  life,  could  ever  have  been  con- 
•ceived  to  be  other  than  what  they  are,  the  records  of  his  own 
loves  and  fears.  And  I  believe  that  if  the  acceptance  of 
them  as  such  had  not  involved  the  consequence  of  Shak- 
spere's intrigue  with  a  married  woman,  all  readers  would 
have  taken  the  Sonnets  as  speaking  of  Shakspere's  own  life. 
But  his  admirers  are  so  anxious  to  remove  every  stain  from 
him  that  they  contend  for  a  non-natural  interpretation  of  his 
poems.  .  .  .  They  forget  Shakspere's  impulsive  nature,  and 
his  long  absence  from  his  home.  They  will  not  face  the 
probabilities  of  the  case,  or  recollect  that  David  was  still 
God's  friend  though  Bathsheba  lived.  The  Sonnets  are,  in 
one  sense,  Shakspere's  Psalms.  Spiritual  struggles  underlie 
both  poets'  work.  For  myself,  I  'd  accept  any  number  of 
"slips  in  sensual  mire"  on  Shakspere's  part,  to  have  the 
"bursts  of  (loving)  heart"  given  us  in  the  Sonnets. 

The  true  motto  for  the  first  group  of  Shakspere's  Sonnets 
is  to  be  seen  in  David's  words,  "  I  am  distressed  for  thee, 
my  brother  Jonathan  ;  very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me. 
Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  woman." 
We  have  had  them  reproduced  for  us  Victorians,  without 
their  stain  of  sin  and  shame,  in  Mr.  Tennyson's  In  Memo- 
riam.  We  have  had  them  again  to  some  extent  in  Mrs. 
Browning's  glorious  Sonnets  to  her  husband,  with  their  iter- 
ance, "  Say  over  again,  and  yet  once  over  again,  that  thou 

*  The  Leopold  Shakspere  (London,  1877),  p.  Ixiii.  fol. 


INTRODUCTION.  -7 

dost  love  me."  We  may  look  upon  the  Sonnets  as  a  piece 
of  music,  or  as  Shakspere's  pathetic  sonata,  each  melody  in- 
troduced, dropped  again,  brought  in  again  with  variations,  but 
one  full  strain  of  undying  love  and  friendship  through  the 
whole.  Why  could  Shakspere  say  so  beautifully  for  Antonio 
of  The  Merchant,  "All  debts  are  cleared  between  you  and  I, 
if  I  might  but  see  you  at  my  death :  notwithstanding,  use 
your  pleasure  "  ?  Why  did  he  make  Antonio  of  Twelfth-Night 
say,  "A  witchcraft  drew  me  hither"?  Why  did  he  make 
Viola  declare — 

"  And  I  most  jocund,  apt,  and  willingly, 
To  do  you  rest,  a  thousand  deaths  would  die  "  ? 

Why  did  he  paint  Helena  alone  ;  saying — 

"  'T  was  pretty  though  a  plague 
To  see  him  every  hour ;  to  sit  and  draw 
His  arched  brows,  his  hawking  eyes,  his  curls, 
In  our  heart's  table, — heart  too  capable 
Of  every  line  and  trick  of  his  sweet  favour  ! 
But  now  he's  gone,  and  my  idolatrous  fancy 
Must  sanctify  his  relics  "  ? 

Because  he  himself  was  Helena,  Antonio.  A  witchcraft 
drew  him  to  a  "  boy,"  a  youth  to  whom  he  gave  his 

"  Love  without  pretension  or  restraint, 
All  his  in  dedication." 

Shakspere  towards  him  was  as  Viola  towards  the  Duke.     He 

went 

"  After  him  I  love  more  than  I  love  these  eyes, 
More  than  my  life." 

In  the  Sonnets  we  have  the  gentle  Will,  the  melancholy  mild- 
eyed  man,  of  the  Droeshout  portrait.  Shakspere's  tender, 
sensitive,  refined  nature  is  seen  clearly  here,  but  through  a 
glass  darkly  in  the  plays. 

I  have  no  space  to  dwell  on  the  sections  into  which  I 
separate  the  Sonnets,  and  which  follow  in  the  table  below. 
I  will  only  call  special  attention  to  sections  9  and  n/3  (Nos. 
17 


3g  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

71-74,87-93),  in  which  Shakspere's  love  to  his  friend  is  so 
beautifully  set  forth,  and  to  section  13  (Nos.  97-99),  in  which 
Will's  flower-like  beauty  is  dwelt  on,  as  Shakspere's  love  for 
him  in  absence  recalled  it.  Let  those  who  want  to  realize 
the  difference  between  one  kind  of  friendship  and  another, 
contrast  these  Sonnets  of  Shakspere's  with  Bacon's  celebrat- 
ed Essay  on  Friendship.  On  this  point  I  quote  the  first 
page  of  a  paper  sent  in  to  me  at  my  Bedford  Lectures  : 

"There  are  some  men  who  love  for  the  sake  of  what  love 
yields,  and  of  these  was  Lord  Bacon  ;  and  there  are  some 
who  love  for  '  love's  sake,'  and  loving  once,  love  always ;  and 
of  these  was  Shakspere.  These  do  not  lightly. give  their 
love,  but  once  given,  their  faith  is  incorporate  with  their  be- 
ing; and  having  become  part  of  themselves,  to  part  with  that 
part  would  be  to  be  dismembered.  Therefore  if  change  or 
sin  corrupt  the  engrafted  limb,  the  only  effect  is  that  the 
whole  body  is  shaken  with  anguish, 

*  And  yet,  love  knows,  it  is  a  greater  grief 
To  bear  love's  wrongs,  than  hate's  known  injury.' — Sonn.  40. 

The  offending  member  may  be  nursed  into  health,  or  loved 
into  life  again  ;  but — forsaken  ! — never  ! 

'  Love  is  not  love, 

Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 
Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remove." — Sonn.  116. 

These  are  not  the  men  who  reap  outer  advantage  from  their 
friendship;  they  generally  give  rather  than  take;  they  are 
often  the  victims  of  circumstance,  and  the  scapegoats  for 
their  friends'  offences;  still,  they  reap  the  benefit  which  in- 
ward growth  produces ;  the  glorious  leaven  of  self-abnegat- 
ing love  within  them  impregnates  their  whole  being;  they 
move  simply  and  naturally  among  us,  but  we  feel  that  they 
stand  on  a  higher  level  than  we — that  they  see  with  '  larger, 
other  eyes  than  ours,'  and  we  yield  them  homage,  and  feel 
better  for  having  known  them." — M.  J. 


INTRODUCTION.  ^ 

The  thoughtless  objection  that  many  Sonnets  in  this  group 
confuse  the  sex  of  the  person  they  're  addressed  to,  is  so  plain- 
ly answered  by  Shakspere  himself  in  Sonnet  20,  on  the  master- 
mistress  of  his  passion,  that  one  can  only  wonder — although 
a  Shakspere  student  is  bound  to  wonder  at  nothing  in  his 
commentators — that  the  objection  was  ever  taken. 

SONNETS. 
ANALYSIS  OF  GROUP  i.    SONNETS  1-126. 

Section  I.  Sonnets  1-26.  a.  1-17.     Will's  beauty,  and  his  duty  to  marry 

and  beget  a  son. 
j8.  18-26.  Will's  beauty,  and  Shakspere's  love 

for  him. 
"       2.         "      27-32.  First  Absence.   Shakespere  travelling,  and  away 

from  Will. 

"  j.  "  33-35.  Will's  sensual  fault  blamed,  repented,  and  for- 
given. 

"       4.         "      36-39.  Shakspere  has  committed  a  fault  that  will  sep- 
arate him  from  Will. 
*'       5.        "      40-42.  Will   has   taken   away   Shakspere's  mistress. 

(See  Group  2,  §  6,  Sonnets  133-136.) 

"       6.         "      43-61.  0.43-56.  Second  Absence.  Will  absent.  Shak- 
spere has  a  portrait  of  him. 
(3.  57-58.  The  sovereign:  slave  watching:  so 

made  by  God. 
y.  59-60.   Will's  beauty. 
d.        61.  Waking  and  watching.     Shakspere 

has  rivals. 

*•  7.  "  62-65.  Shakspere  full  of  self-love,  conquered  by  Time, 
which  will  conquer  Will  too  :  yet  Shakspere 
will  secure  him  eternity. 

"  8.  "  66-70.  Shakspere  (like  Hamlet)  tired  of  the  world : 
but  not  only  on  public  grounds.  Will  has 
mixed  with  bad  company ;  but  Shakspere  is 
sure  he  is  pure,  and  excuses  him. 

"  9.  "  71-74.  Shakspere  on  his  own  death,  and  his  entire  love 
for  his  friend.  (Compare  the  death-thoughts 
in  Hamlet  and  Measure  for  Measure*} 

*  I  do  not  think  that  "  The  coward  conquest  of  a  wretch's  knife,"  74, 
11,  alludes  to  an  attempt  to  stab  Shakspere.  I  believe  it  is  the  "con-- 
founding age's  cruel  knife"  of  63.  10. 


40  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

Section  10.  Sonnets  75-77.  Shakspere's  love,  and  always  writing  on  one 

theme,  his  Will ;   with  the  present  of  a 

table-book,  dial,  and  pocket  looking-glass 

combined  in  one. 

"       ii.         "        78-93.  a.  78-86.  ShakspereonhisrivalsinWill'slove. 

(G.  Chapman,  the  rival  poet.*) 
(3.  87-93.  Shakspere's  farewell  to  Will :  most 
beautiful  in  the  self-forgetful  ness 
of  Shakspere's  love. 
"       12.         "        94-96.  Will  vicious. 

"  13.  "  97-99.  Third  Absence.  Will's  flower-like  beauty, 
and  Shakspere's  love  for  him  ;  followed  by 
faults  on  both  sides,  and  a  separation, t 
ended  by  Will's  desire,  120.  u. 

*  "The  proud  full  sail  of  his  great  verse  "  (86.  i)  probably  alludes  to  the 
swelling  hexameters  of  Chapman's  englishing  of  Homer.  "His  spirit, 
by  spirits  taught  to  write,"  may  well  refer  to  Chapman's  claim  that 
Homer's  spirit  inspired  him,  a  claim  made,  no  doubt,  in  words,  before  its 
appearance  in  print  in  his  Tears  of  Peace,  1609,  Inductio,  p.  112,  col.  i., 
Chatto  and  Windus  ed. — 

"  I  am,  said  he  [Homer],  that  spirit  Elysian, 

That did  thy  bosom  fill 

With  such  a  flood  of  soul,  that  thou  wert  fain, 
With  exclamations  of  her  rapture  then, 
To  vent  it  to  the  echoes  of  the  vale    .     .     . 

and  thou  didst  inherit 

My  true  sense,  for  the  time  then,  in  my  spirit ; 
And  I  invisibly  went  prompting  thee"     .     .     . 

See,  too,  on  Shakspere's  sneer  at  his  rival's  "  affable  familiar  ghost,  which 
nightly  gulls  him  with  intelligence,"  Chapman's  Dedication  to  his  Shadow 
of  Night  (1594),  p.  3,  "not  without  having  drops  of  their  souls  like  an 
awaked  familiar"  and  in  his  Tears  of Peace ',  p.  123,  col.  2 : 

"  Still  being  persuaded  by  the  shameless  night, 
That  all  my  reading,  writing,  all  my  pains, 
Are  serious  trifles,  and  the  idle  veins 
Of  an  unthrifty  angel  that  deludes 
My  simple  fancy"     .... 

These  make  a  better  case  for  Chapman  being  the  rival  than  has  been 
made  for  any  one  else.  (Mr.  Harold  Littledale  gave  me  some  of  these 
references.) 

t  Happily  not  ending  like  that  of  Sir  Leoline  and  Lord  Roland  de  Vaux, 
in  Coleridge. 


INTRODUCTION.  4I 

Section  14.  Sonnets  100-121.  a.  100-112.  Renewing  of  love,  three  years 

after  the  first  Sonnets  (104). 
Shakspere's  love  stronger 
now  in  its  summer  thanit  was 
in  its  spring,  102.  5  ;  1 19.  10- 
12.*  Note  the  "hell  of  time" 
( 1 20. 6)  that  Will's  unkindness 
has  made  Shakspere  pass.t 
j3.  113-114.  Fourth  Absence.  Shakspere 

sees  Will  in  all  nature. 
y.  115-121.  Shakspere  describes  his  love  for 

Will,  and  justifies  himself. 

"  15.  "  122-126.  Shakspere  excuses  himself  for  giving  away 
Will's  present  of  some  tables,  again  de- 
scribes his  love  for  Will,  and  warns  Will 
that  he  too  must  grow  old. 

With  regard  to  the  Second  Group  of  Sonnets,  we  must  al- 
ways keep  Shakspere's  own  words  in  No.  121  before  us  : 

ff  No,  T  am  that  I  am  ;  J  and  they  that  level 
At  my  abuses,  reckon  up  their  own  : 
I  may  be  straight,  though  they  themselves  be  bevel ; 
By  their  rank  thoughts  my  deeds  must  not  be  shown  ; 
Unless  this  general  evil  they  maintain, — 
All  men  are  bad,  and  in  their  badness  reign." 

Still  I  think  it  is  plain  that  Shakspere  had  become  involved 
in  an  intrigue  with  a  married  woman,  who  threw  him  over  for 
his  friend  Will.  She  was  dark,  had  beautiful  eyes,  and  was 
a  fine  musician,  but  false.  The  most  repulsive  of  the  Son- 
nets is  no  doubt  No.  129.  But  that  and  the  others  plainly 
show  that  Shakspere  knew  that  his  love  was  his  sin  (142), 

*  The  doctrine  here  that  "ruin'd  love,  when  it  is  built  anew,  Grows 
fairer  than  at  first"  was  also  put  into  Tennyson's  Princess  in  its  "  Bless- 
ings on  the  falling-out,  that  all  the  more  endears ;"  but  was  rightly  taken 
out  again. 

t  "  And  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love, 

Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain." — Coleridge. 

I  Compare  lago's  "  I  am  not  what  I  am,"  in  Othello,  i.  I,  and  Parolles's 
:s  Simply  the  thing  I  am  shall  make  me  live,"  in  All 's  Well,  iv.  3. 


42  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

and  that  in  his  supposed  heaven  he  found  hell.*  Adultery 
in  those  days  was  no  new  thing,  was  treated  with  an  indiffer- 
ence that  we  wonder  at  now.  What  was  new,  is  that  which 
Shakspere  shows  us,  his  deep  repentance  for  the  sin  com- 
mitted. Sad  as  it  may  be  to  us  to  be  forced  to  conclude 
that  shame  has  to  be  cast  on  the  noble  name  we  reverence, 
yet  let  us  remember  that  it  is  but  for  a  temporary  stain  on 
his  career,  and  that  through  the  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart  he  gained  by  his  own  trials  we  get  the  intensest  and 
most  valuable  records  of  his  genius.  It  is  only  those  who 
have  been  through  the  mill  themselves,  that  know  how  hard 
God's  stones  and  the  devil's  grind. 

The  Second  Group  of  Sonnets,  127-154,  I  divide  into — 

Section  i.  Sonnet       127.  On  his  mistress's  dark  complexion,  brows,  and 
eyes.     (Cf.  Berowne  on  his  dark  Rosaline, 
in  Love's  Labotirs  Lost.} 
2.       "       •      128.  On  her,  his  music,  playing  music  (the  virginals). 

"       3.       "  129.  On  her,  after  enjoying  her.     He  laments  his 

weakness. 

"       4.       "  130.  On  her,  a  chaffing  description  of  her.     (Com- 

pare Marlowe's  Ignoto  ;  Lingna,  before  1603, 
in  Dodsley,  ix.  370;  and  Shirley's  Sisters: 
"  Were  it  not  fine,"  etc.) 

"  5-  "  I3I~I32-  Though  plain  to  others,  his  mistress  is  fairest 
to  Shakspere's  doting  heart.  But  her  deeds 
are  black ;  and  her  black  eyes  pity  him. 

"  6.  "  133-136.  She  has  taken  his  friend  Will  from  him  (cf. 
40-42).  He  asks  her  to  restore  his  friend 
(134),  or  to  take  him  as  part  of  her  (and  his) 
Will  (135).  If  she  '11  but  love  his  name,she  '11 
love  him  (Shakspere),  as  his  name  too  is  Will 
(136). 

7.  "  137-145.  Shakspere  knows  his  mistress  is  not  beautiful, 
and  that  she  's  false,  but  he  loves  her  (137). 
Each  lies  to  and  flatters  the  other  (138).  Still 
if  she  '11  only  look  kindly  on  him,  it  '11  be 
enough  (139).  She  must  not  look  too  cruel- 
ly, or  he  might  despair  and  go  mad,  and  tell 

*  Sonnets  1 19.  2,  8 ;  147.  i,  14. 


INTRODUCTION. 

T'O 

the  world  that  ill  of  her  that  it  would  only 
too  soon  believe  (140).  He  loves  her  in 
spite  of  his  senses  (141).  She  has  broken 
her  bed-vow ;  then  let  her  pity  him  (142). 
She  may  catch  his  friend  if  she  will  but  give 
him  a  smile  (143).  He  has  two  loves,  a  fair 
man,  a  dark  woman  who  'd  corrupt  the  man 
(144,  the  Key  Sonnet}.  She  was  going  to  say 
she  hated  him,  but,  seeing  his  distress,  said, 
not  him  (145). 

SectionS.  Sonnet  146.  (?  Misplaced.)  A  remonstrance  with  himself, 
on  spending  too  much,  either  on  dress  or  out- 
ward self-indulgence,  and  exhorting  himself 
to  give  it  up  for  inward  culture.  (The  blank 
for  two  words  in  line  2, 1  fill  with  "  Hemm'd 
with:"  cf.  Venus  and  Adonis,  1022, "  Hemm'd 
with  thieves.") 

"  9.  "  147-148.  Shakspere's  feverish  love  drives  him  mad,  his 
doctor— Reason— being  set  aside  (147).  Love 
has  obscured  his  sight  (148). 

"  10.  "  149-152.  He  gives  himself  up  wholly  to  his  mistress ; 
loves  whom  she  loves,  hates  whom  she  hates 
(149).  The  worst  of  her  deeds  he  loves  bet- 
ter than  any  other's  best  (150).  The  more 
he  ought  to  hate  her,  the  more  he  loves  her. 
He  is  content  to  be  her  drudge,  for  he  loves 
her  (151).  Yet  he  's  forsworn,  for  he  's  told 
lies  of  her  goodness,  and  she  has  broken  her 
bed-vow;  he  has  broken  twenty  oaths  (152). 

"  ii.  "  153-154.  (May  be  made  Group  III.,  or  Division  2  of 
Group  II.).  Two  sonnets  lighter  in  tone. 
In  both  Cupid  sleeps,  has  his  brand  put  out, 
in  (153)  a  fountain,  (154)  a  well,  which  the 
brand  turns  into  medical  baths ;  Shakspere 
comes  for  cure  to  each,  but  finds  none.  He 
wants  his  mistress's  eyes  for  that  (153).  Wa- 
ter cools  not  love  (154). 

I  always  ask  that  the  Sonnets  should  be  read  between  the 
Second  and  Third  Periods,*  for  the  "  hell  of  time  "  of  which 

*  For  Mr.  Furnivall's  classification  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  poems, 
see  our  ed.  of  A.  Y.  L.  p.  25. — Ed. 


44 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


they  speak  is  the  best  preparation  for  the  temper  of  that 
Third  Period,  and  enables  us  to  understand  it.  The  fierce 
and  stern  decree  of  that  Period  seems  to  me  to  be,  "  there 
shall  be  vengeance,  death,  for  misjudgment,  failure  in  duty, 
self-indulgence,  sin,"  and  the  innocent  who  belong  to  the 
guilty  shall  suffer  with  them  :  Portia,  Ophelia,  Desdemona, 
Cordelia,  lie  beside  Brutus,  Hamlet,  Othello,  Lear. 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN  (PAGES  24,  40). 


SHAKESPEARE'S    SONNETS. 


TO  .  THE  .  ONLIE  .  BEGETTER  .  OF. 

THESE  •  INSVING  .  SONNETS  . 

Mr.  W.  H.  ALL  .  HAPPINESSE  . 

AND.  THAT.  ETERNITIE  . 

PROMISED  • 

BY. 
OVR  •  EVER-LIVING  .  POET  o 

WISHETH  . 

THE  •  WELL-WISHING  . 

ADVENTVRER . IN . 

SETTING  • 

FORTH • 

T.  T 


HEAD    OF   EROS    (CUPID),   FROM    THE    ANTIQUE 


SONNETS. 


FROM  fairest  creatures  we  desire  increase, 
That  thereby  beauty's  rose  might  never  die, 
But  as  the  riper  should  by  time  decease, 
His  tender  heir  might  bear  his  memory ; 
But  thou,  contracted  to  thine  own  bright  eyes, 
Feed'st  thy  light's  flame  with  self-substantial  fuel, 
Making  a  famine  where  abundance  lies, 
Thyself  thy  foe,  to  thy  sweet  self  too  cruel. 
Thou,  that  art  now  the  world's  fresh  ornament 
And  only  herald  to  the  gaudy  spring, 
Within  thine  own  bud  buriest  thy  content 
And,  tender  churl,  mak'st  waste  in  niggarding. 
Pity  the  world,  or  else  this  glutton  be, 
To  eat  the  world's  due,  by  the  grave  and  thee. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


II. 

When  forty  winters  shall  besiege  thy  brow, 
And  dig  deep  trenches  in  thy  beauty's  field, 
Thy  youth's  proud  livery,  so  gaz'd  on  now, 
Will  be  a  tatter'd  weed,  of  small  worth  held  ; 
Then  being  ask'd  where  all  thy  beauty  lies, 
Where  all  the  treasure  of  thy  lusty  days, 
To  say,  within  thine  own  deep-sunken  eyes, 
Were  an  all-eating  shame  and  thriftless  praise. 
How  much  more  praise  deserv'd  thy  beauty's  use? 
If  thou  couldst  answer  '  This  fair  child  of  mine 
Shall  sum  my  count  and  make  my  old  excuse,' 
Proving  his  beauty  by  succession  thine  ! 

This  were  to  be  new  made  when  thou  art  old, 
And  see  thy  blood  warm  when  thou  feel'st  it  cold. 

III. 

Look  in  thy  glass,  and  tell  the  face  thou  viewest 
Now  is  the  time  that  face  should  form  another ; 
Whose  fresh  repair  if  now  thou  not  renewest, 
Thou  dost  beguile  the  world,  unbless  some  mother. 
For  where  is  she  so  fair  whose  unear'd  womb 
Disdains  the  tillage  of  thy  husbandry  ? 
Or  who  is  he  so  fond  will  be  the  tomb 
Of  his  self-love,  to  stop  posterity  ? 
Thou  art  thy  mother's  glass,  and  she  in  thee 
Calls  back  the  lovely  April  of  her  prime ; 
So  thou  through  windows  of  thine  age  shalt  see, 
Despite  of  wrinkles,  this  thy  golden  time. 
But  if  thou  live,  remember'd  not  to  be, 
Die  single,  and  thine  image  dies  with  thee. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  49 


IV. 

Unthrifty  loveliness,  why  dost  thou  spend 
•Upon  thyself  thy  beauty's  legacy  ? 
Nature's  bequest  gives  nothing  but  doth  lend, 
And  being  frank  she  lends  to  those  are  free. 
Then,  beauteous  niggard,  why  dost  thou  abuse 
The  bounteous  largess  given  thee  to  give  ? 
Profitless  usurer,  why  dost  thou  use 
So  great  a  sum  of  sums,  yet  canst  not  live  ? 
For,  having  traffic  with  thyself  alone, 
Thou  of  thyself  thy  sweet  self  dost  deceive. 
Then  how,  when  nature  calls  thee  to  be  gone, 
What  acceptable  audit  canst  thou  leave  ? 

Thy  unus'd  beauty  must  be  tomb'd  with  thee5 
Which,  used,  lives  th'  executor  to  be. 


Those  hours  that  with  gentle  work  did  frame 

The  lovely  gaze  where  every  eye  doth  dwell 

Will  play  the  tyrants  to  the  very  same 

And  that  unfair  which  fairly  doth  excel ; 

For  never-resting  time  leads  summer  on 

To  hideous  winter  and  confounds  him  there; 

Sap  check'd  with  frost  and  lusty  leaves  quite  gone. 

Beauty  o'ersnow'd  and  bareness  every  where : 

Then,  were  not  summer's  distillation  left, 

A  liquid  prisoner  pent  in  walls  of  glass, 

Beauty's  effect  with  beauty  were  bereft, 

Nor  it  nor  no  remembrance  what  it  was : 

But  flowers  distill'd,  though  they  with  winter  meet, 
Leese  but  their  show;  their  substance  still  lives  sweet. 


SHAKESPEARES  SONNETS. 


VI. 

Then  let  not  winter's  ragged  hand  deface 

In  thee  thy  summer,  ere  thou  be  distill'd  : 

Make  sweet  some  vial;  treasure  thou  some  place 

With  beauty's  treasure,  ere  it  be  self-kill'd. 

That  use  is  not  forbidden  usury 

Which  happies  those  that  pay  the  willing  loan ; 

That's  for  thyself  to  breed  another  thee, 

Or  ten  times  happier,  be  it  ten  for  one ; 

Ten  times  thyself  were  happier  than  thou  art, 

If  ten  of  thine  ten  times  refigur'd  thee  : 

Then  what  could  death  do,  if  thou  shouldst  depart, 

Leaving  thee  living  in  posterity? 

Be  not  self-will'd,  for  thou  art  much  too  fair 

To  be  death's  conquest  and  make  worms  thine  heir.' 


VII. 

Lo !  in  the  orient  when  the  gracious  light 
Lifts  up  his  burning  head,  each  under  eye 
Doth  homage  to  his  new-appearing  sight, 
Serving  with  looks  his  sacred  majesty; 
And  having  climb'd  the  steep-up  heavenly  hill. 
Resembling  strong  youth  in  his  middle  age, 
Yet  mortal  looks  adore  his  beauty  still, 
Attending  on  his  golden  pilgrimage; 
But  when  from  highmost  pitch,  with  weary  car, 
Like  feeble  age,  he  reeleth  from  the  day, 
The  eyes,  fore  duteous,  now  converted  are 
From  his  low  tract  and  look  another  way : 
So  thou,  thyself  out-going  in  thy  noon, 
Unlook'd  on  diest,  unless  thou  get  a  son. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


VIII. 

Music  to  hear,  why  hear'st  thou  music  sadly  ? 
Sweets  with  sweets  war  not,  joy  delights  in  joy. 
Why  lov'st  thou  that  which  thou  receiv'st  not  gladly, 
Or  else  receiv'st  with  pleasure  thine  annoy  ? 
If  the  true  concord  of  well-tuned  sounds, 
By  unions  married,  do  offend  thine  ear, 
They  do  but  sweetly  chide  thee,  who  confounds 
In  singleness  the  parts  that  thou  shouldst  bear. 
Mark  how  one  string,  sweet  husband  to  another, 
Strikes  each  in  each  by  mutual  ordering, 
Resembling  sire  and  child  and  happy  mother, 
Who,  all  in  one,  one  pleasing  note  do  sing; 

Whose  speechless  song,  being  many,  seeming  one, 
Sings  this  to  thee :  ( Thou  single  wilt  prove  none.' 


IX. 

Is  it  for  fear  to  wet  a  widow's  eye 
That  thou  consum'st  thyself  in  single  life? 
Ah !  if  thou  issueless  shalt  hap  to  die, 
The  world  will  wail  thee,  like  a  makeless  wife; 
The  world  will  be  thy  widow  and  still  weep 
That  thou  no  form  of  thee  hast  left  behind, 
When  every  private  widow  well  may  keep 
By  children's  eyes  her  husband's  shape  in  mind. 
Look,  what  an  unthrift  in  the  world  doth  spend 
Shifts  but  his  place,  for  still  the  world  enjoys  it; 
But  beauty's  waste  hath  in  the  world  ah  end, 
And,  kept  unus'd,  the  user  so  destroys  it. 
No  love  toward  others  in  that  bosom  sits 
That  ojn  himself  such  murtherous  shame  commits. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


X. 

For  shame  !  deny  that  thou  bear'st  love  to  any, 
Who  for  thyself  art  so  unprovident. 
Grant,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  art  belov'd  of  many, 
But  that  thou  none  lov'st  is  most  evident; 
For  thou  art  so  possess'd  with  murtherous  hate 
That  'gainst  thyself  thou  stick'st  not  to  conspire, 
Seeking  that  beauteous  roof  to  ruinate 
Which  to  repair  should  be  thy  chief  desire. 
O,  change  thy  thought,  that  I  may  change  my  mind ! 
Shall  hate  be  fairer  lodg'd  than  gentle  love  ? 
Be,  as  thy  presence  is,  gracious  and  kind, 
Or  to  thyself  at  least  kind-hearted  prove; 
Make  thee  another  self,  for  love  of  me, 
That  beauty  still  may  live  in  thine  or  thee. 


XI. 

As  fast  as  thou  shalt  wane,  so  fast  thou  growest 
In  one  of  thine,  from  that  which  thou  departest ; 
And  that  fresh  blood  which  youngly  thou  bestowest 
Thou  mayst  call  thine  when  thou  from  youth  convertest, 
Herein  lives  wisdom,  beauty,  and  increase  ; 
Without  this,  folly,  age,  and  cold  decay  : 
If  all  were  minded  so,  the  times  should  cease 
And  threescore  year  would  make  the  world  away. 
Let  those  whom  Nature  hath  not  made  for  store, 
Harsh,  featureless,  and  rude,  barrenly  perish  : 
Look,  whom  she  best  endow'd  she  gave  the  more, 
Which  bounteous  gift  thou  shouldst  in  bounty  cherish  , 
She  carv'd  thee  for  her  seal,  and  meant  thereby 
Thou  shouldst  print  more,  not  let  that  copy  die. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  c? 

XII.         ^  ) 

When  I  do  count  the  clock  that  tells  the  time, 
And  see  the  brave  day  sunk  in  hideous  night, 
When  I  behold  the  violet  past  prime, 
And  sable  curls  all  silver'd  o'er  with  white, 
When  lofty  trees  I  see  barren  of  leaves 
Which  erst  from  heat  did  canopy  the  herd, 
And  summer's  green  all  girded  up  in  sheaves 
Borne  on  the  bier  with  white  and  bristly  beard, 
Then  of  thy  beauty  do  I  question  make, 
That  thou  among  the  wastes  of  time  must  go, 
Since  sweets  and  beauties  do  themselves  forsake 
And  die  as  fast  as  they  see  others  grow ; 

And  nothing  'gainst  Time's  scythe  can  make  defence 
Save  breed,  to  brave  him  when  he  takes  thee  hence. 


XIII. 


O,  that  you  were  yourself!  but,  love,  you  are 
No  longer  yours  than  you  yourself  here  live  ; 
Against  this  coming  end  you  should  prepare, 
And  your  sweet  semblance  to  some  other  give. 
So  should  that  beauty  which  you  hold  in  lease 
Find  no  determination  ;  then  you  were  . 
Yourself  again  after  yourself  s  decease, 
When  your  sweet  issue  your  sweet  form  should  bear. 
Who  lets  so  fair  a  house  fall  to  decay, 
Which  husbandry  in  honour  might  uphold 
Against  the  stormy  gusts  of  winter's  day 
And  barren  rage  of  death's  eternal  cold  ? 

O,  none  but  unthrifts  !     Dear  my  love,  you  know 
You  had  a  father;  let  your  son  say  so. 
18 


54 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XIV. 

Not  from  the  stars  do  I  my  judgment  pluck ; 
And  yet  methinks  I  have  astronomy, 
But  not  to  tell  of  good  or  evil  luck, 
Of  plagues,  of  dearths,  or  seasons'  quality; 
Nor  can  I  fortune  to  brief  minutes  tell, 
Pointing  to  each  his  thunder,  rain,  and  wind, 
Or  say  with  princes  if  it  shall  go  well, 
By  oft  predict  that  I  in  heaven  find : 
But  from  thine  eyes  my  knowledge  I  derive, 
And,  constant  stars,  in  them  I  read  such  art 
As  truth  and  beauty  shall  together  thrive, 
If  from  thyself  to  store  thou  wouldst  convert ; 
Or  else  of  thee  this  I  prognosticate  : 
Thy  end  is  truth's  and  beauty's  doom  and  date. 


XV. 

When  I  consider  every  thing  that  grows 
Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment, 
That  this  huge  stage  presenteth  nought  but  shows 
Whereon  the  stars  in  secret  influence  comment ; 
When  I  perceive  that  men  as  plants  increase, 
Cheered  and  check'd  even  by  the  self-same  sky, 
Vaunt  in  their  youthful  sap,  at  height  decrease, 
And  wear  their  brave  state  out  of  memory ; 
Then  the  conceit  of  this  inconstant  stay 
Sets  you  most  rich  in  youth  before  my  sight, 
Where  wasteful  Time  debateth  with  Decay, 
To  change  your  day  of  youth  to  sullied  night ; 
And  all  in  war  with  Time  for  love  of  you, 
As  he  takes  from  you,  I  engraft  you  new. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XVI. 

But  wherefore  do  not  you  a  mightier  way 
Make  war  upon  this  bloody  tyrant,  Time  ? 
And  fortify  yourself  in  your  decay 
With  means  more  blessed  than  my  barren  rhyme  ? 
Now  stand  you  on  the  top  of  happy  hours, 
And  many  maiden  gardens  yet  unset 
With  virtuous  wish  would  bear  your  living  flowers, 
Much  liker  than  your  painted  counterfeit; 
So  should  the  lines  of  life  that  life  repair, 
Which  this  time's  pencil  or  my  pupil  pen, 
Neither  in  inward  worth  nor  outward  fair, 
Can  make  you  live  yourself  in  eyes  of  men. 
To  give  away  yourself  keeps  yourself  still, 
And  you  must  live,  drawn  by  your  own  sweet  skill. 


XVII. 

Who  will  believe  my  verse  in  time  to  come, 
If  it  were  fill'd  with  your  most  high  deserts  ? 
Though  yet,  heaven  knows,  it  is  but  as  a  tomb 
Which  hides  your  life  and  shows  not  half  your  parts. 
If  I  could  write  the  beauty  of  your  eyes 
And  in  fresh  numbers  number  all  your  graces, 
The  age  to  come  would  say,  'This  poet  lies; 
Such  heavenly  touches  ne'er  touch'd  earthly  faces.' 
So  should  my  papers,  yellow'd  with  their  age, 
Be  scorn'd  like  old  men  of  less  truth  than  tongue, 
And  your  true  rights  be  term'd  a  poet's  rage 
And  stretched  metre  of  an  antique  song; 

But  were  some  child  of  yours  alive  that  time, 
You  should  live  twice, — in  it  and  in  my  rhyme. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XVIII. 

Shall  I  compare  thee  to  a  summer's  day  ? 
Thou  art  more  lovely  and  more  temperate  : 
Rough  winds  do  shake  the  darling  buds  of  May, 
And  summer's  lease  hath  all  too  short  a  date; 
Sometime  too  hot  the  eye  of  heaven  shines, 
And  often  is  his  gold  complexion  dimm'd  ; 
And  every  fair  from  fair  sometime  declines, 
By  chance  or  nature's  changing  course  untrimm'd  : 
But  thy  eternal  summer  shall  not  fade 
Nor  lose  possession  of  that  fair  thou  owest ; 
Nor  shall  Death  brag  thou  wander'st  in  his  shade, 
When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  growest: 
So  long  as  men  can  breathe  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee. 


XIX. 

Devouring  Time,  blunt  thou  the  lion's  paws, 
And  make  the  earth  devour  her  own  sweet  brood ; 
Pluck  the  keen  teeth  from  the  fierce  tiger's  jaws, 
And  burn  the  long-liv'd  phoenix  in  her  blood; 
Make  glad  and  sorry  seasons  as  thou  fleets, 
And  do  whate'er  thou  wilt,  swift-footed  Time, 
To  the  wide  world  and  all  her  fading  sweets ; 
But  I  forbid  thee  one  most  heinous  crime : 
O,  carve  not  with  thy  hours  my  love's  fair  brow, 
Nor  draw  no  lines  there  with  thine  antique  pen ; 
Him  in  thy  course  untainted  do  allow 
For  beauty's  pattern  to  succeeding  men. 

Yet,  do  thy  worst,  old  Time;  despite  thy  wrong, 
My  love  shall  in  my  verse  ever  live  young. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  57 


XX. 

A  woman's  face  with  Nature's  own  hand  painted 

Hast  thou,  the  master-mistress  of  my  passion ; 

A  woman's  gentle  heart,  but  not  acquainted 

With  shifting  change,  as  is  false  women's  fashion ; 

An  eye  more  bright  than  theirs,  less  false  in  rolling, 

Gilding  the  object  whereupon  it  gazeth ; 

A  man  in  hue,  all  hues  in  his  controlling, 

Which  steals  men's  eyes  and  women's  souls  amazeth. 

And  for  a  woman  wert  thou  first  created  ; 

Till  Nature,  as  she  wrought  thee,  fell  a-doting, 

And  by  addition  me  of  thee  defeated, 

By  adding  one  thing  to  my  purpose  nothing. 

But  since  she  prick'd  thee  out  for  women's  pleasure, 
Mine  be  thy  love,  and  thy  love's  use  their  treasure. 


XXI. 

So  is  it  not  with  me  as  with  that  Muse 

Stirr'd  by  a  painted  beauty  to  his  verse, 

Who  heaven  itself  for  ornament  doth  use 

And  every  fair  with  his  fair  doth  rehearse ; 

Making  a  couplement  of  proud  compare, 

With  sun  and  moon,  with  earth  and  sea's  rich  gems, 

With  April's  first-born  flowers,  and  all  things  rare 

That  heaven's  air  in  this  huge  rondure  hems. 

O,  let  me,  true  in  love,  but  truly  write, 

And  then  believe  me,  my  love  is  as  fair 

As  any  mother's  child,  though  not  so  bright 

As  those  gold  candles  fix'd  in  heaven's  air : 

Let  them  say  more  that  like  of  hearsay  well; 

I  will  not  praise  that  purpose  not  to  sell. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXII. 

My  glass  shall  not  persuade  me  I  am  old, 
So  long  as  youth  and  thou  are  of  one  date ; 
But  when  in  thee  time's  furrows  I  behold, 
Then  look  I  death  my  days  should  expiajre. 
For  all  that  beauty  that  doth  cover  thee 
Is  but  the  seemly  raiment  of  my  heart, 
Which  in  thy  breast  doth  live,  as  thine  in  me : 
How  can  I  then  be  elder  than  thou  art? 
O,  therefore,  love,  be  of  thyself  so  wary 
As  I,  not  for  myself,  but  for  thee  will ; 
Bearing  thy  heart,  which  I  will  keep  so  chary 
As  tender  nurse  her  babe  from  faring  ill. 

Presume  not  on  thy  heart  when  mine  is  slain  ; 

Thou  gav'st  me  thine,  not  to  give  back  again. 


XXIII. 

As  an  unperfect  actor  on  the  stage 

Who  with  his  fear  is  put  besides  his  part, 

Or  some  fierce  thing  replete  with  too  much  rage, 

Whose  strength's  abundance  weakens  his  own  heart, 

So  I,  for  fear  of  trust,  forget  to  say 

The  perfect  ceremony  of  love's  rite, 

And  in  mine  own  love's  strength  seem  to  decay, 

O'ercharg'd  with  burden  of  mine  own  love's  might. 

O,  let  my  books  be  then  the  eloquence 

And  dumb  presagers  of  my  speaking  breast, 

Who  plead  for  love  and  look  for  recompense 

More  than  that  tongue  that  more  hath  more  express'd. 

O,  learn  to  read  what  silent  love  hath  writ; 

To  hear  with  eyes  belongs  to  love's  fine  wit. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXIV. 

Mine  eye  hath  play'd  the  painter  and  hath  stell'd 
Thy  beauty's  form  in  table  of  my  heart  ; 
My  body  is  the  frame  wherein  't  is  held, 
And  perspective  it  is  best  painter's  art. 
For  through  the  painter  must  you  see  his  skill, 
To  find  where  your  true  image  pictur'd  lies  ; 
Which  in  my  bosom's  shop  is  hanging  still, 
That  hath  his  windows  glazed  with  thine  eyes. 
Now  see  what  good  turns  eyes  for  eyes  have  done: 
Mine  eyes  have  drawn  thy  shape,  and  thine  for  me 
Are  windows  to  my  breast,  where-through  the  sun 
Delights  to  peep,  to  gaze  therein  on  thee  ; 

Yet  eyes  this  cunning  want  to  grace  their  art,  — 
They  draw  but  what  they  see,  know  not  the  heart. 


XXV. 

Let  those  who  are  in  favour  with  their  stars 
Of  public  honour  and  proud  titles  boast, 
Whilst  I,  whom  fortune  of  such  triumph  bars, 
Unlook'd  for  joy  in  that  I  honour  most. 
Great  princes'  favourites  their  fair  leaves  spread 
But  as  the  mangold  at  the  sun's  eye, 
And  in  themselves  their  pride  lies  buried, 
For  at  a  frown  they  in  their  glory  die. 
The  painful  warrior  famoused  for  fight, 
After  a  thousand  victories  once  foil'd, 
Is  from  the  book  of  honour  razed  quite, 
And  all  the  rest  forgot  for  which  he  toil'd : 
Then  happy  I,  that  love  and  am  belov'd 
Where  I  mav  not  remove  nor  be  remov'd. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXVI. 

Lord  of  my  love,  to  whom  in  vassalage 
Thy  merit  hath  my  duty  strongly  knit, 
To  thee  I  send  this  written  embassage, 
To  witness  duty,  not  to  show  my  wit: 
Duty  so  great,  which  wit  so  poor  as  mine 
'  May  make  seem  bare,  in  wanting  words  to  show  it, 
But  that  I  hope  some  good  conceit  of  thine 
In  thy  soul's  thought,  all  naked,  will  bestow  it; 
Till  whatsoever  star  that  guides  my  moving 
Points  on  me  graciously  with  fair  aspect, 
And  puts  apparel  on  my  tatter'd  loving, 
To  show  me  worthy  of  thy  sweet  respect : 

Then  may  I  dare  to  boast  how  I  do  love  thee ; 

Till  then  not  show  my  head  where  thou  rnayst  prove 
me. 

XXVII. 

Weary  with  toil,  I  haste  me  to  my  bed, 

The  dear  repose  for  limbs  with  travel  tir'd, 

But  then  begins  a  journey  in  my  head, 

To  work  my  mind,  when  body's  work  's  expir'd ; 

For  then  my  thoughts,  from  far  where  I  abide, 

Intend  a  zealous  pilgrimage  to  thee, 

And  keep  my  drooping  eyelids  open  wide, 

Looking  on  darkness  which  the  blind  do  see: 

Save  that  my  soul's  imaginary  sight 

Presents  thy  shadow  to  my  sightless  view, 

Which,  like  a  jewel  hung  in  ghastly  night, 

Makes  black  night  beauteous  and  her  old  face  new. 

Lo  !  thus,  by  day  my  limbs,  by  night  my  mind, 

For  thee  and  for  myself  no  quiet  find. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXVIII. 

How  can  I  then  return  in  happy  plight, 
That  am  debarr'd  the  benefit  of  rest  ? 
When  day's  oppression  is  not  eas'd  by  night, 
But  day  by  night,  and  night  by  day,  oppress'd  ? 
And  each,  though  enemies  to  cither's  reign, 
Do  in  consent  shake  hands  to  torture  me; 
The  one  by  toil,  the  other  to  complain 
How  far  I  toil,  still  farther  off  from  thee. 
I  tell  the  day,  to  please  him  thou  art  bright 
And  dost  him  grace  when  clouds  do  blot  the  heaven  : 
So  flatter  I  the  swart-complexion  'd  night, 
When  sparkling  stars  twire  not  thou  gild'st  the  even. 
But  day  doth  daily  draw  my  sorrows  longer, 
And  night  doth  nightly  make  grief's  strength  seem 
stronger. 


XXIX. 


When,  in  disgrace  with  fortune  and  men's  eyes, 
.   I  all  alone  beweep  my  outcast  state,          >  ^^"^ 
I  And  trouble  deaf  heaven  with  my  bootless  cries, 
And  look  upon  myself  and  curse  my  fate, 
Wishing  me  like  to  one  more  rich  in  hope, 
Featur'd  like  him,"like  him  with  friends  possess'd, 
V Desiring  this  man's  art  and  that  man's  scope, 
-  4  With  what  I  .most  enjoy  contented  least ;  - 
t*'  vYet  in  these  thoughts  myself  almost  despising,^  ^e^ 
"Hapl$  I  think  on  thee,  and  then  my  state, 
(Like  to  the  lark  at  break  of  day  arising 
f*\      ^From  sullen  earth,  sings  hymns  at  heaven's  gate: 
<^    -j)         [  For  thy  sweet  love  remember'd  such  wealth  brings 
i£s  v  That  then  I  scorn  to  change  my  state  with  kings. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXX. 

When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought 

I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past, 

I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing  I  sought, 

And  with  old  woes  new  wail  my  dear  time's  waste 

Then  can  I  drown  an  eye,  unus'd  to  flow, 

For  precious  friends  hid  in  death's  dateless  night, 

And  weep  afresh  love's  long  since  cancell'd  woe, 

And  moan  the  expense  of  many  a  vanish'd  sight; 

Then  can  I  grieve  at  grievances  foregone, 

And  heavily  from  woe  to  woe  tell  o'er 

The  sad  account  of  fore-bemoaned  moan, 

Which  I  new  pay  as  if  not  paid  before. 

But  if  the  while  I  think  on  thee,  dear  friend, 
All  losses  are  restor'd  and  sorrows  end. 


XXXI. 

Thy  bosom  is  endeared  with  all  hearts, 
Which  I  by  lacking  have  supposed  dead, 
And  there  reigns  love  and  all  love's  loving  parts. 
And  all  those  friends  which  I  thought  buried. 
How  many  a  holy  and  obsequious  tear 
Hath  dear  religious  love  stolen  from  mine  eye 
As  interest  of  the  dead,  which  now  appear 
But  things  remov'd  that  hidden  in  thee  lie ! 
Thou  art  the  grave  where  buried  love  doth  live. 
Hung  with  the  trophies  of  my  lovers  gone, 
Who  all  their  parts  of  me  to  thee  did  give; 
That  due  of  many  now  is  thine  alone: 
Their  images  I  lov'd  I  view  in  thee, 
And  thou,  all  they,  hast  all  the  all  of  me. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXXII. 

If  thou  survive  my  well-contented  day, 
When  that  churl  Deafti  my  bones  with  dust  shall.-cover, 
And  shalt  by  fortune  once  more  re-survey 
These  poor  rude  lines  of  thy  deceased  lover, 
Compare  them  with  the  bettering  of  the  time, 
And  though  they  be  outstripp'd  by  every  pen, 
Reserve  them  for  my  love,  not  for  their  rhyme, 
Exceeded  by  the  height  of  happier  men. 
O,  then  vouchsafe  me  but  this  loving  thought: 
'  Had  my  friend's  Muse  grown  with  this  growing  age, 
A  dearer  birth  than  this  his  love  had  brought, 
To  march  in  ranks  of  better  equipage ; 
But  since  he  died  and  poets  better  prove, 
Theirs  for  their  style  I  '11  read,  his  for  his  love/ 


XXXIII. 

Full  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen 
Flatter  the  mountain-tops  with  sovereign  eye, 
Kissing  with  golden  face  the  meadows  green, 
Gilding  pale  streams  with  heavenly  alchemy; 
Anon  permit  the  basest  clouds  to  ride, 
With  ugly  rack  on  his  celestial  face, 
And  from  the  forlorn  world  his  visage  hide, 
Stealing  unseen  to  west  with  this  disgrace : 
Even  so  my  sun  one  early  morn  did  shine 
With  all-triumphant  splendour  on  my  brow ; 
But  out,  alack !  he  was  but  one  hour  mine, 
The  region  cloud  hath  mask'd  him  from  me  now. 

Yet  him  for  this  my  love  no  whit  disdaineth; 

Suns  of  the  world  may  stain  when  heaven's  sun  staineth. 


64  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


xxxiv.         r2J 

Why  didst  thou  promise  such  a  beauteous  day 

And  make  me  travel  forth  without  my  cloak, 

To  let  base  clouds  o'ertake  me  in  my  way, 

Hiding  thy  bravery  in  their  rotten  smoke  ? 

'T  is  not  enough  that  through  the  cloud  thou  break, 

To  dry  the  rain  on  my  storm-beaten  face, 

For  no  man  well  of  such  a  salve  can  speak 

That  heals  the  wound  and  cures  not  the  disgrace: 

Nor  can  thy  shame  give  physic  to  my.  grief ; 

Though  thou  repent,  yet  I  have  still  the  loss: 

The  offender's  sorrow  lends  but  weak  relief 

To  him  that  bears  the  strong  offence's  cross. 

Ah !  but  those  tears  are  pearl  which  thy  love  sheds, 
And  they  are  rich  and  ransom  all  ill  deeds. 


XXXV. 

^- 

No  more  be  griev'd  at  that  which  thou  hast  done : 
Roses  have  thorns,  and  silver  fountains  mud ; 
Clouds  and  eclipses  stain  both  moon  and  sun, 
And  loathsome  canker  lives  in  sweetest  bud. 
All  men  make  faults,  and  even  I  in  this, 
Authorizing  thy  trespass  with  compare, 
Myself  corrupting,  salving  thy  amiss, 
Excusing  thy  sins  more  than  thy  sins  are; 
For  to  thy  sensual  fault  I  bring  in  sense — 
Thy  adverse  party  is  thy  advocate — 
And  'gainst  myself  a  lawful  plea  commence. 
Such  civil  war  is  in  my  love  and  hate 
That  I  an  accessary  needs  must  be 
To  that  sweet  thief  which  sourly  robs  from  me. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXXVI. 

Let  me  confess  that  we  two  must  be  twain, 
Although  our  undivided  loves  are  one; 
So  shall  those  blots  that  do  with  me  remain 
Without  thy  help  by  me  be  borne  alone. 
In  our  two  loves  there  is  but  one  respect, 
Though  in  our  lives  a  separable  spite, 
Which  though  it  alter  not  love's  sole  effect, 
Yet  doth  it  steal  sweet  hours  from  love's  delight. 
I  may  not  evermore  acknowledge  thee, 
Lest  my  bewailed  guilt  should  do  thee  shame, 
Nor  thou  with  public  kindness  honour  me, 
Unless  thou  take  that  honour  from  thy  name: 
But  do  not  so ;  I  love  thee  in  such  sort 
As,  thou  being  mine,  mine  is  thy  good  report. 


XXXVII. 

As  a  decrepit  father  takes  delight 

To  see  his  active  child  do  deeds  of  youth, 

So  I,  made  lame  by  fortune's  dearest  spite, 

Take  all  my  comfort  of  thy  worth  and  truth ; 

For  whether  beauty,  birth,  or  wealth,  or  wit, 

Or  any  of  these  all,  or  all,  or  more, 

Entitled  in  thy  parts  clo  crowned  sit, 

I  make  my  love  engrafted  to  this  store. 

So  then  I  am  not  lame,  poor,  nor  despis'd, 

Whilst  that  this  shadow  doth  such  substance  give 

That  I  in  thy  abundance  am  suffic'd 

And  by  a  part  of  all  thy  glory  live. 

Look,  what  is  best,  that  best  I  wish  in  thee : 
This  wish  I  have;  then  ten  times  happy  me! 


66  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XXXVIII. 

How  can  my  Muse  want  subject  to  invent, 

While  thou  dost  breathe,  that  pour'st  into  my  verse 

Thine  own  sweet  argument,  too  excellent 

For  every  vulgar  paper  to  rehearse  ? 

O,  give  thyself  the  thanks,  if  aught  in  me 

Worthy  perusal  stand  against  thy  sight; 

For  who  's  so  dumb  that  cannot  write  to  thee, 

When  thou  thyself  dost  give  invention  light? 

Be  thou  the  tenth  Muse,  ten  times  more  in  worth 

Than  those  old  nine  which  rhymers  invocate ; 

And  he  that  calls  on  thee,  let  him  bring  forth 

Eternal  numbers  to  outlive  long  date. 

If  my  slight  Muse  do  please  these  curious  days, 
The  pain  be  mine,  but  thine  shall  be  the  praise. 


XXXIX. 

O,  how  thy  worth  with  manners  may  I  sing, 
When  thou  art  all  the  better  part  of  me  ? 
What  can  mine  own  praise  to  mine  own  self  bring? 
And  what  is  't-but  mine  own  when  I  praise  thee? 
Even  for  this  let  us  divided  live, 
And  our  dear  love  lose  name  of  single  one, 
That  by  this  separation  I  may  give 
That  due  to  thee  which  thou  deserv'st  alone. 
O  absence,  what  a  torment  wouldst  thou  prove, 
Were  it  not  thy  sour  leisure  gave  sweet  leave 
To  entertain  the  time  with  thoughts  of  love, 
Which  time  and  thoughts  so  sweetly  doth  deceive, 
And  that  thou  teachest  how  to  make  one  twain, 
By  praising  him  here  who  doth  hence  remain! 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  67 


XL. 

Take  all  my  loves,  my  love,  yea,  take  them  all ; 
What  hast  thou  then  more  than  thou  hadst  before? 
No  love,  my  love,  that  thou  mayst  true  love  call ; 
All  mine  was  thine  before  thou  hadst  this  more. 
Then  if  for  my  love  thou  my  love  receivest, 
I  cannot  blame  thee  for  my  love  thou  usest; 
But  yet  be  blam'd,  if  thou  thyself  deceivest 
By  wilful  taste  of  what  thyself  refusest. 
I  do  forgive  thy  robbery,  gentle  thief, 
Although  thou  steal  thee  all  my  poverty ; 
And  yet,  love  knows,  it  is  a  greater  grief 
To  bear  love's  wrong  than  hate's  known  injury. 
Lascivious  grace,  in  whom  all  ill  well  shows, 
Kill  me  with  spites;  yet  we  must  not  be  foes. 


XLI. 

Those  pretty  wrongs  that  liberty  commits, 
When  I  am  sometime  absent  from  thy  heart, 
Thy  beauty  and  thy  years  full  well  befits, 
For  still  temptation  follows  where  thou  art. 
Gentle  thou  art  and  therefore  to  be  won, 
Beauteous  thou  art,  therefore  to  be  assail'd ; 
And  when  a  woman  wooes,  what  woman's  son 
Will  sourly  leave  her  till  she  have  prevaiFd  ? 
Ay  me !  but  yet  thou  mightst  my  seat  forbear, 
And  chide  thy  beauty  and  thy  straying  youth, 
Who  lead  thee  in  their  riot  even  there 
Where  thou  art  forc'd  to  break  a  twofold  truth,- 
Hers,  by  thy  beauty  tempting  her  to  thee, 
Thine,  by  thy  beauty  being  false  to  me. 


68  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XLII. 

That  thou  hast  her,  it  is  not  all  my  grief, 

And  yet  it  may  be  said  I  lov'd  her  dearly; 

That  she  hath  thee,  is  of  my  wailing  chief, 

A  loss  in  love  that  touches  me  more  nearly. 

Loving  offenders,  thus  I  will  excuse  ye : 

Thou  dost  love  her,  because  thou  know'st  I  love  her; 

And  for  my  sake  even  so  doth  she  abuse  me, 

Suffering  my  friend  for  my  sake  to  approve  her. 

If  I  lose  thee,  my  loss  is  my  love's  gain, 

And  losing  her,  my  friend  hath  found  that  loss ; 

Both  find  each  other,  and  I  lose  both  twain, 

And  both  for  my  sake  lay  on  me  this  cross: 

But  here's  the  joy;  my  friend  and  I  are  one; 

Sweet  flattery !  then  she  loves  but  me  alone. 

XLIII. 

When  most  I  wink,  then  do  mine  eyes  best  see, 
For  all  the  day  they  view  things  unrespected ; 
But  when  I  sleep,  in  dreams  they  look  on  thee, 
And  darkly  bright  are  bright  in  dark  directed. 
Then  thou,  whose  shadow  shadows  doth  make  bright, 
How  would  thy  shadow's  form  form  happy  show 
To  the  clear  day  with  thy  much  clearer  light, 
When  to  unseeing  eyes  thy  shade  shines  so! 
How  would,  I  say,  mine  eyes  be  blessed  made 
By  looking  on  thee  in  the  living  day, 
When  in  dead  night  thy  fair  imperfect  shade 
Through  heavy  sleep  on  sightless  eyes  doth  stay! 
All  days  are  nights  to  see  till  I  see  thee, 
And  nights  bright  days  when  dreams  do  show  thee 
me. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XLIV. 
• 

If  the  dull  substance  of  my  flesh  were  thought, 
Injurious  distance  should  not  stop  my  way; 
For  then  despite  of  space  I  would  be  brought, 
From  limits  far  remote,  where  thou  dost  stay. 
No  matter  then  although  my  foot  did  stand 
Upon  the  farthest  earth  remov'd  from  thee ; 
For  nimble  thought  can  jump  both  sea  and  land 
As  soon  as  think  the  place  where  he  would  be. 
But,  ah!  thought  kills  me  that  I  am  not  thought, 
To  leap  large  lengths  of  miles  when  thou  art  gone, 
But  that,  so  much  of  earth  and  water  wrought, 
I  must  attend  time's  leisure  with  my  moan, 
Receiving  nought  by  elements  so  slow 
But  heavy  tears,  badges  of  cither's  woe. 


XLV. 

The  other  two,  slight  air  and  purging  fire, 

Are  both  with  thee,  wherever  I  abide; 

The  first  my  thought,  the  other  my  desire, 

These  present-absent  with  swift  motion  slide. 

For  when  these  quicker  elements  are  gone 

In  tender  embassy  of  love  to  thee, 

My  life,  being  made  o*f  four,  with  two  alone 

Sinks  down  to  death,  oppress'd  with  melancholy ; 

Until  life's  composition  be  recur'd 

By  those  swift  messengers  return'd  from  thee, 

Who  even  but  now  come  back  again,  assur'd 

Of  thy  fair  health,  recounting  it  to  me. 

This  told,  I  joy  ;  but  then,  no  longer  glad, 

I  send  them  back  again,  and  straight  grow  sad. 


69 


70  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XLVI. 

* 
Mine  eye  and  heart  are  at  a  mortal  war 

How  to  divide  the  conquest  of  thy  sight; 

Mine  eye  my  heart  thy  picture's  sight  would  bar; 

My  heart  mine  eye  the  freedom  of  that  right. 

My  heart  doth  plead  that  thou  in  him  dost  lie, — 

A  closet  never  pierc'd  with  crystal  eyes, — 

But  the  defendant  doth  that  plea  deny, 

And  says  in  him  thy  fair  appearance  lies. 

To  'cide  this  title  is  impanelled 

A  quest  of  thoughts,  all  tenants  to  the  heart, 

And  by  their  verdict  is  determined 

The  clear  eye's  moiety  and  the  dear  heart's  part : 
As  thus:  mine  eye's  due  is  thy  outward  part, 
And  my  heart's  right  thy  inward  love  of  heart. 


XLVII. 

Betwixt  mine  eye  and  heart  a  league  is  took, 
And  each  doth  good  turns  now  unto  the  other: 
When  that  mine  eye  is  famish'd  for  a  look, 
Or  heart  in  love  with  sighs  himself  doth  smother, 
With  my  love's  picture  then  my  eye  doth  feast 
And  to  the  painted  banquet  bids  my  heart; 
Another  time  mine  eye  is  my  heart's  guest 
And  in  his  thoughts  of  love  doth  share  a  part. 
So,  either  by  thy  picture  or  my  love, 
Thyself  away  art  present  still  with  me; 
For  thou  not  farther  than  my  thoughts  canst  move. 
And  I  am  still  with  them  and  they  with  thee ; 
Or,  if  they  sleep,  thy  picture  in  my  sight 
Awakes  my  heart  to  heart's  and  eye's  delight. 


SHAKESPEARKS  SONNETS. 


XLVIII. 

How  careful  was  I,  when  I  took  my  way, 
Each  trifle  under  truest  bars  to  thrust, 
That  to  my  use  it  might  unused  stay 
From  hands  of  falsehood,  in  sure  wards  of  trust! 
But  thou,  to  whom  my  jewels  trifles  are, 
Most  worthy  comfort,  now  my  greatest  grief, 
Thou,  best  of  dearest  and  mine  only  care, 
Art  left  the  prey  of  every  vulgar  thief. 
Thee  have  I  not  lock'd  up  in  any  chest, 
Save  where  thou  art  not,  though  I  feel  thou  art, 
Within  the  gentle  closure  of  my  breast, 
From  whence  at  pleasure  thou  mayst  come  and  part; 
And  even  thence  thou  wilt  be  stolen,  I  fear, 
For  truth  proves  thievish  for  a  prize  so  dear. 


XLIX. 

Against  that  time,  if  ever  that  time  come, 
When  I  shall  see  thee  frown  on  my  defects, 
Whenas  thy  love  hath  cast  his  utmost  sum, 
CalPd  to  that  audit  by  advis'd  respects ; 
Against  that  time  when  thou  shalt  strangely  pass 
And  scarcely  greet  me  with  that  sun,  thine  eye, 
When  love,  converted  from  the  thing  it  was, 
Shall  reasons  find  of  settled  gravity, — 
Against  that  time  do  I  ensconce  me  here 
Within  the  knowledge  of  mine  own  desert, 
And  this  my  hand  against  myself  uprear, 
To  guard  the  lawful  reasons  on  thy  part : 

To  leave  poor  me  thou  hast  the  strength  of  laws, 
Since  why  to  love  I  can  allege  no  cause. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


L. 

How  heavy  do  I  journey  on  the  way, 

When  what  I  seek,  my  weary  travel's  end, 

Doth  teach  that  ease  and  that  repose  to  say, 

'  Thus  far  the  miles  are  measured  from  thy  friend ! 

The  beast  that  bears  me,  tired  with  my  woe, 

Plods  dully  on,  to  bear  that  weight  in  me, 

As  if  by  some  instinct  the  wretch  did  know 

His  rider  lov'd  not  speed,  being  made  from  thee: 

The  bloody  spur  cannot  provoke  him  on 

That  sometimes  anger  thrusts  into  his  hide ; 

Which  heavily  he  answers  with  a  groan, 

More  sharp  to  me  than  spurring  to  his  side ; 

For  that  same  groan  doth  put  this  in  my  mind, — 
My  grief  lies  onward  and  my  joy  behind. 


LI. 

Thus  can  my  love  excuse  the  slow  offence 
Of  my  dull  bearer  when  from  thee  I  speed : 
From  where  thou  art  why  should  I  haste  me  thence? 
Till  I  return,  of  posting  is  no  need. 
O,  what  excuse  will  my  poor  beast  then  find, 
When  swift  extremity  can  seem  but  slow? 
Then  should  I  spur,  though  mounted  on  the  wind; 
In  winged  speed  no  motion  shall  I  know  : 
Then  can  no  horse  with  my  desire  keep  pace ; 
Therefore  desire,  of  perfect'st  love  being  made, 
Shall  neigh — no  dull  flesh — in  his  fiery  race ; 
But  love,  for  love,  thus  shall  excuse  my  jade : 
Since  from  thee  going  he  went  wilful-slow, 
Towards  thee  I  '11  run,  and  give  him  leave  to  go. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  73 


01. 

So  am  I  as  the  rich,  whose  blessed  key 
Can  bring  him  to  his  sweet  up-locked  treasure, 
The  which  he  will  not  every  hour  survey, 
For  blunting  the  fine  point  of  seldom  pleasure. 
Therefore  are  feasts  so  solemn  and  so  rare, 
Since,  seldom  coming,  in  the  long  year  set, 
Like  stones  of  worth  they  thinly  placed  are, 
Or  captain  jewels  in  the  carcanet. 
So  is  the  time  that  keeps  you  as  my  chest, 
Or  as  the  wardrobe  which  the  robe  doth  hide, 
To  make  some  special  instant  special  blest, 
By  new  unfolding  his  imprison'd  pride. 

Blessed  are  you,  whose  worthiness  gives  scope, 
Being  had,  to  triumph,  being  lack'd,  to  hope. 


LIIL 

What  is  your  substance,  whereof  are  you  made, 
That  millions  of  strange  shadows  on  you  tend? 
Since  every  one  hath,  every  one,  one  shade, 
And  you,  but  one,  can  every  shadow  lend. 
Describe  Adonis,  and  the  counterfeit 
Is  poorly  imitated  after  you ; 
On  Helen's  cheek  all  art  of  beauty  set, 
And  you  in  Grecian  tires  are  painted  new: 
Speak  of  the  spring  and  foison  of  the  year, 
The  one  doth  shadow  of  your  beauty  show. 
The  other  as  your  bounty  doth  appear ; 
And  you  in  every  blessed  shape  we  know. 
In  all  external  grace  you  have  some  part, 
But  you  like  none,  none  you,  for  constant  heart. 


74  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LIV. 

O,  how  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous  seem 
By  that  sweet  ornament  which  truth  doth  give! 
The  rose  looks  fair,  but  fairer  we  it  deem 
For  that  sweet  odour  which  doth  in  it  live. 
The  canker-blooms  have  full  as  deep  a  dye 
As  the  perfumed  tincture  of  the  roses, 
Hang  on  such  thorns,  and  play  as  wantonly 
When  summer's  breath  their  masked  buds  discloses; 
But,  for  their  virtue  only  is  their  show, 
They  live  unwoo'd  and  unrespected  fade, 
Die  to  themselves.     Sweet  roses  do  not  so  • 
Of  their  sweet  deaths  are  sweetest  odours  made : 
And  so  of  you,  beauteous  and  lovely  youth, 
When  that  shall  vade,  my  verse  distills  your  truth. 


LV. 


€ 


Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 
Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme ; 
But  you  shall  shine  more  bright  in  these  contents 
Than  unswept  stone  besmear'd  with  sluttish  time. 
When  wasteful  war  shall  statues  overturn, 
And  broils  root  out  the  work  of  masonry, 
Nor  Mars  his  sword  nor  war's  quick  fire  shall  burn 
The  living  record  of  your  memory. 
'Gainst  death  and  all-oblivious  enmity 
Shall  you  pace  forth ;  your  praise  shall  still  find  room 
Even  in  the  eyes  of  all  posterity 
That  wear  this  world  out  to  the  ending  doom. 
So,  till  the  judgment  that  yourself  arise, 
You  live  in  this,  and  dwell  in  lovers'  eyes. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LVI. 

Sweet  love,  renew  thy  force;  be  it  not  said 
Thy  edge  should  blunter  be  than  appetite, 
Which  but  to-day  by  feeding  is  allay'd, 
To-morrow  sharpen'd  in  his  former  might: 
So,  love,  be  thou ;  although  to-day  thou  fill 
Thy  hungry  eyes  even  till  they  wink  with  fullness, 
To-morrow  see  again,  and  do  not  kill 
The  spirit  of  love  with  a  perpetual  dullness. 
Let  this  sad  interim  like  the  ocean  be 
Which  parts  the  shore  where  two  contracted  new 
Come  daily  to  the  banks,  that,  when  they  see 
Return  of  love,  more  blest  may  be  the  view; 
Else  call  it  winter,  which  being  full  of  care 
Makes  summer's  welcome  thrice  more  wish'd,  more 
rare. 

LVII. 

Being  your  slave,  what  should  I  do  but  tend 
Upon  the  hours  and  times  of  your  desire? 
I  have  no  precious  time  at  all  to  spend, 
Nor  services  to  do,  till  you  require. 
Nor  dare  I  chide  the  world-without-end  hour 
Whilst  I,  my  sovereign,  watch  the  clock  for  you, 
Nor  think  the  bitterness  of  absence  sour 
When  you  have  bid  your  servant  once  adieu  ; 
Nor  dare  I  question  with  my  Jealous  thought 
Where  you  may  be,  or  your  affairs  suppose, 
But,  like  a  sad  slave,  stay  and  think  of  nought 
Save,  where  you  are  how  happy  you  make  those. 
So  true  a  fool  is  love  that  in  your  will, 
Though  you  do  any  thing,  he  thinks  no  ill. 


76 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LVIII. 

That  god  forbid  that  made  me  first  your  slave, 

I  should  in  thought  control  your  times  of  pleasure, 

Or  at  your  hand  the  account  of  hours  to  crave, 

Being  your  vassal,  bound  to  stay  your  leisure ! 

O,  let  me  suffer,  being  at  your  beck, 

The  imprison'd  absence  of  your  liberty; 

And  patience,  tame  to  sufferance,  bide  each  check, 

Without  accusing  you  of  injury. 

Be  where  you  list,  your  charter  is  so  strong 

That  you  yourself  may  privilege  your  time 

To  what  you  will ;  to  you  it  doth  belong 

Yourself  to  pardon  of  self-doing  crime. 

I  am  to  wait,  though  waiting  so  be  hell ; 

Not  blame  your  pleasure,  be  it  ill  or  well. 


LIX. 

If  there  be  nothing  new,  but  that  which  is 
Hath  been  before,  how  are  our  brains  beguil'd, 
Which,  labouring  for  invention,  bear  amiss 
The  second  burthen  of  a  former  child  ! 
O,  that  record  could  with  a  backward  look, 
Even  of  five  hundred  courses  of  the  sun, 
Show  me  your  image  in  some  antique  book, 
Since  mind  at  first  in  character  was  done ! 
That  I  might  see  what  the  old  world  could  say 
To  this  composed  wonder  of  your  frame  ; 
Whether  we  are  mended,  or  whether  better  they, 
Or  whether  revolution  be  the  same. 
O,  sure  I  am,  the  wits  of  former  days 
To  subjects  worse  have  given  admiring  praise. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  77 


„ 

Like  as  the  waves  make  towards  the  pebbled  shore, 
So  do  our  minutes  hasten  to  their  end; 
Each  changing  place  with  that  which  goes  before, 
In  sequent  toil  all  forwards  do  contend. 
Nativity,  once  in  the  main  of  light, 
Crawls  to  maturity,  wherewith  being  crown'd, 
Crooked  eclipses  'gainst  his  glory  fight, 
And  Time  that  gave  doth  now  his  gift  confound. 
Time  doth  transfix  the  flourish  set  on  youth 
And  delves  the  parallels  in  beauty's  brow, 
Feeds  on  the  rarities  of  nature's  truth, 
And  nothing  stands  but  for  his  scythe  to  mow; 
And  yet  to  times  in  hope  my  verse  shall  stand, 
Praising  thy  worth,  despite  his  cruel  hand. 


LXI. 

Is  it  thy  will  thy  image  should  keep  open 

My  heavy  eyelids  to  the  weary  night  ? 

Dost  thou  desire  my  slumbers  should  be  broker*, 

While  shadows  like  to  thee  do  mock  my  sight  ? 

Is  it  thy  spirit  that  thou  send'st  from  thee 

So  far  from  home  into  my  deeds  to  pry, 

To  find  out  shames  and  idle  hours  in  me, 

The  scope  and  tenour  of  thy  jealousy  ? 

O,  no !  thy  love,  though  much,  is  not  so  great : 

It  is  my  love  that  keeps  mine  eye  awake ; 

Mine  own  true  love  that  doth  my  rest  defeat, 

To  play  the  watchman  ever  for  thy  sake  : 

For  thee  watch  I  whilst  thou  dost  wake  elsewhere, 
From  me  far  off,  with  others  all  too  near. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXII. 

Sin  of  self-love  possesseth  all  mine  eye 
And  all  my  soul  and  all  my  every  part; 
And  for  this  sin  there  is  no  remedy, 
It  is  so  grounded  inward  in  my  heart. 
Methinks  no  face  so  gracious  is  as  mine, 
No  shape  so  true,  no  truth  of  such  account  3 
And  for  myself  mine  own  worth  do  define, 
As  I  all  other  in  all  worths  surmount. 
But  when  my  glass  shows  me  myself  indeed- 
Bated  and  chopp'd  with  tann'd  antiquity, 
Mine  own  self-love  quite  contrary  I  read ; 
Self  so  self-loving  were  iniquity. 

'T  is  thee,  myself,  that  for  myself  I  praise, 
Painting  my  age  with  beauty  of  thy  days. 


LXIIL 

Against  my  love  shall  be,  as  I  am  now, 
With  Time's  injurious  hand  crush'd  and  o'erworn, 
When  hours  have  drain'd  his  blood  and  fill'd  his  brow 
With  lines  and  wrinkles,  when  his  youthful  morn 
Hath  travell'd  on  to. age's  steepy  night, 
And  all  those  beauties  whereof  now  he's  king 
Are  vanishing  or  vanish'd  out  of  sight, 
Stealing  away  the  treasure  of  his  spring — 
For  such  a  time  do  I  now  fortify 
Against  confounding  age's  cruel  knife, 
That  he  shall  never  cut  from  memory 
My  sweet  love's  beauty,  though  my  lover's  life  ; 
His  beauty  shall  in  these  black  lines  be  seen, 
And  they  shall  live,  and  he  in  them  still  green. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


79 


LXIV. 

When  I  have  seen  by  Time's  fell  hand  defac'd 
The  rich  proud  cost  of  outworn  buried  age, 
When  sometime  lofty  towers  I  see  down-ras'd 
And  brass  eternal  slave  to  mortal  rage, 
When  I  have  seen  the  hungry  ocean  gain 
Advantage  on  the  kingdom  of  the  shore, 
And  the  firm  soil  win  of  the  watery  main, 
Increasing  store  with  loss  and  loss  with  store, — 
When  I  have  seen  such  interchange  of  state, 
Or  state  itself  confounded  to  decay, 
Ruin  hath  taught  me  thus  to  ruminate, 
That  Time  will  come  and  take  my  love  away. 
This  thought  is  as  a  death,  which  cannot  choose 
But  weep  to  have  that  which  it  fears  to  lose. 


LXV. 


Since  brass,  nor  stone,  nor  earth,  nor  boundless  sea, 
But  sad  mortality  o'er-sways  their  power, 
How  with  this  rage  shall  beauty  hold  a  plea, 
Whose  action  is  no  stronger  than  a  flower? 
O,  how  shall  summer's  honey  breath  hold  out 
Against  the  wrackful  siege  of  battering  days, 
When  rocks  impregnable  are  not  so  stout, 
Nor  gates  of  steel  so  strong,  but  Time  decays? 
O  fearful  meditation!  where,  alack, 
Shall  Time's  best  jewel  from  Time's  chest  lie  hid? 
Or  what  strong  hand  can  hold  his  swift  foot  back? 
Or  who  his  spoil  of  beauty  can  forbid  ? 
O,  none,  unless  this  miracle  have  might, 
That  in  black  ink  my  love  may  still  shine  brigrit. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXVI. 

Tir'd  with  all  these,  for  restful  death  I  cry,— 
As,  to  behold  desert  a  beggar  born, 
And  needy  nothing  trimm'd  in  jollity, 
And  purest  faith  unhappily  forsworn, 
And  gilded  honour  shamefully  misplac'd, 
And  maiden  virtue  rudely  strumpeted, 
And  right  perfection  wrongfully  disgrac'd, 
And  strength  by  limping  sway  disabled, 
And  art  made  tongue-tied  by  authority, 
And  folly  doctor-like  controlling  skill, 
And  simple  truth  miscall'd  simplicity, 
And  captive  good  attending  captain  ill; 

Tir'd  with  all  these,  from  these  would  1  be  gone. 
Save  that,  to  die,  I  leave  my  love  alone. 


LXVII. 

Ah!  wherefore  with  infection  should  he  live; 
And  with  his  presence  grace  impiety, 
That  sin  by  him  advantage  should  achieve 
And  lace  itself  with  his  society? 
Why  should  false  painting  imitate  his  cheek, 
And  steal  dead  seeing  of  his  living  hue  ? 
Why  should  poor  beauty  indirectly  seek 
Roses  of  shadow,  since  his  rose  is  true  ? 
Why  should  he  live,  now  Nature  bankrupt  is, 
Beggar'd  of  blood  to  blush  through  lively  veins? 
For  she  hath  no  exchequer  now  but  his, 
And,  proud  of  many,  lives  upon  his  gains. 

O,  him  she  stores,  to  show  what  wealth  she  had 
In  days  long  since,  before  these  last  so  bad ! 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXVIII. 

Thus  is  his  cheek  the  map  of  days  outworn, 
When  beauty  liv'd  and  died  as  flowers  do  now, 
Before  these  bastard  signs  of  fair  were  born, 
Or  durst  inhabit  on  a  living  brow  ; 
Before  the  golden  tresses  of  the  dead, 
The  right  of  sepulchres,  were  shorn  away, 
To  live  a  second  life  on  second  head  ; 
Ere  beaufy's  dead  fleece  made  another  gay  : 
In  him  those  holy  antique  hours  are  seen, 
Without  all  ornament,  itself  and  true, 
Making  no  summer  of  another's  green, 
Robbing  no  old  to  dress  his  beauty  new; 
And  him  as  for  a  map  doth  Nature  store, 
To  show  false  Art  what  beauty  was  of  yore. 


LXIX. 


Those  parts  of  thee  that  the  world's  eye  doth  view 

Want  nothing  that  the  thought  of  hearts  can  mend ; 

All  tongues,  the  voice  of  souls,  give  thee  that  due, 

Uttering  bare  truth,  even  so  as  foes  commend. 

Thy  outward  thus  with  outward  praise  is  crown'd  ; 

But  those  same  tongues  that  give  thee  so  thine  own 

In  other  accents  do  this  praise  confound 

By  seeing  farther  than  the  eye  hath  shown. 

They  look  into  the  beauty  of  thy  mind, 

And  that,  in  guess,  they  measure  by  thy  deeds ; 

Then,  churls,  their  thoughts,  although  their  eyes  were 

kind, 

To  thy  fair  flower  add  the  rank  smell  of  weeds  : 
But  why  thy  odour  matcheth  not  thy  show, 
The  soil  is  this,  that  thou  dost  common  grow. 


82 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXX. 

That  thou  art  blam'd  shall  not  be  thy  defect, 
For  slander's  mark  was  ever  yet  the  fair ; 
The  ornament  of  beauty  is  suspect, 
A  crow  that  flies  in  heaven's  sweetest  air. 
So  thou  be  good,  slander  doth  but  approve 
Thy  worth  the  greater,  being  woo'd  of  time  ; 
For  canker  vice  the  sweetest  buds  doth  love, 
And  thou  present'st  a  pure  unstained  prime. 
Thou  hast  pass'd  by  the  ambush  of  young  days, 
Either  not  assaiPd  or  victor  being  charg'd  ; 
Yet  this  thy  praise  cannot  be  so  thy  praise, 
To  tie  up  envy  evermore  enlarg'd; 

If  some  suspect  of  ill  mask'd  not  thy  show, 

Then  thou  alone  kingdoms  of  hearts  shouldst  owe. 


LXXI.  Vi) 

No  longer  mourn  for  me  when  I  am  dead 
Than  you  shall  hear  the  surly  sullen  bell 
Give  warning  to  the  world  that  I  am  fled 
From  this  vile  world,  with  vilest  worms  to  dwell : 
Nay,  if  you  read  this  line,  remember  not 
The  hand  that  writ  it,  for  I  love  you  so 
That  I  in  your  sweet  thoughts  would  be  forgot 
If  thinking  on  me  then  should  make  you  woe. 
O,  if,  I  say,  you  look  upon  this  verse 
When  I  perhaps  compounded  am  with  clay, 
Do  not  so  much  as  my  poor  name  rehearse, 
But  let  your  love  even  with  my  life  decay, 

Lest  the  wise  world  should  look  into  your  moan, 
And  mock  vou  with  me  after  I  am  gone. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXII. 

O,  lest  the  world  should  task  you  to  recite 
What  merit  liv'd  in  me,  that  you  should  love 
After  my  death,  dear  love,  forget  me  quite, 
For  you  in  me  can  nothing  worthy  prove ; 
Unless  you  would  devise  some  virtuous  lie, 
To  do  more  for  me  than  mine  own  desert, 
And  hang  more  praise  upon  deceased  I 
Than  niggard  truth  would  willingly  impart: 
O,  lest  your  true  love  may  seem  false  in  this, 
That  you  for  love  speak  well  of  me  untrue, 
My  name  be  buried  where  my  body  is, 
And  live  no  more  to  shame  nor  me  nor  you  ! 
For  I  am  sham'd  by  that  which  I  bring  forth, 
And  so  should  you,  to  love  things  nothing  worth. 


LXXIII. 

That  time  of  year  thou  mayst  in  me  behold 
Wrhen  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few,  do  hang 
Upon  those  boughs  which  shake  against  the  cold, 
Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang. 
In  me  thou  seest  the  twilight  of  such  day 
As  after  sunset  fadeth  in  the  west, 
Which  by  and  by  black  night  doth  take  away, 
Death's  second  self,  that  seals  up  all  in  rest. 
In  me  thou  seest  the  glowing  of  such  fire 
That  on  the  ashes  of  his  youth  doth  lie, 
As  the  death-bed  whereon  it  must  expire, 
Consum'd  with  that  which  it  was  nourished  by. 

This  thou  perceiv'st,  which  makes  thy  love  more  strong, 
To  love  that  .well  which  thou  must  leave  ere  long. 


84 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXIV. 

But  be  contented  :  when  that  fell  arrest 
Without  all  bail  shall  carry  me  away, 
My  life  hath  in  this  line  some  interest, 
Which  for  memorial  still  with  thee  shall  stay. 
When  thou  reviewest  this,  thou  dost  review 
The  very  part  was  consecrate  to  thee: 
The  earth  can  have  but  earth, which  is  his  due] 
My  spirit  is  thine,  the  better  part  of  me. 
So  then  thou  hast  but  lost  the  dregs  of  life, 
The  prey  of  worms,  my  body  being  dead, 
The  coward  conquest  of  a  wretch's  knife, 
Too  base  of  thee  to  be  remembered. 

The  worth  of  that  is  that  which  it  contains, 
And  that  is  this,  and  this  with  thee  remains. 


fl 

So  are  you  to  my  thoughts  as  food  to  life, 

Or  as  sweet-season'd  showers  are  to  the  ground  ; 

And  for  the  peace  of  you  I  hold  such  strife 

As  'twixt  a  miser  and  his  wealth  is  found  : 

Now  proud  as  an  enjoyer,  and  anon 

Doubting  the  filching  age  will  steal  his  treasure  ; 

Now  counting  best  to  be  with  you  alone, 

Then  bettered  that  the  world  may  see  my  pleasure  : 

Sometime  all  full  with  feasting  on  your  sight, 

And  by  and  by  clean  starved  for  a  look ; 

Possessing  or  pursuing  no  delight, 

Save  what  is  had  or  must  from  you  be  took. 

Thus  do  I  pine  and  surfeit  day  by  day, 

Or  gluttoning  on  all,  or  all  away. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXVI. 

Why  is  my  verse  so  barren  of  new  pride, 
So  far  from  variation  or  quick  change? 
Why  with  the  time  do  I  not  glance  aside 
To  new-found  methods  and  to  compounds  strange  i 
WThy  write  I  still  all  one,  ever  the  same, 
And  keep  invention  in  a  noted  weed, 
That  every  word  cloth  almost  tell  my  name, 
Showing  their  birth  and  where  they  did  proceed  ? 
O,  know,  sweet  love,  I  always  write  of  you, 
And  you  and  love  are  still  my  argument  ; 
So  all  my  best  is  dressing  old  words  new, 
Spending  again  what  is  already  spent: 
For  as  the  sun  is  daily  new  and  old, 
So  is  my  love  still  tellin-g  what  is  told. 


LXXVII. 

Thy  glass  will  show  thee  how  thy  beauties  wear, 
Thy  dial  how  thy  precious  minutes  waste  ; 
The  vacant  leaves  thy  mind's  imprint  will  bear, 
And  of  this  book  this  learning  mayst  thou  taste. 
The  wrinkles  which  thy  glass  will  truly  show 
Of  mouthed  graves  will  give  thee  memory; 
Thou  by  thy  dial's  shady  stealth  mayst  know 
Time's  thievish  progress  to  eternity. 
Look,  what  thy  memory  can  not  contain 
Commit  to  these  waste  blanks,  and  thou  shalt  find 
Those  children  nurs'd,  deliver'd  from  thy  brain, 
To  take  a  new  acquaintance  of  thy  mind. 
These  offices,  so  oft  as  thou  wilt  look, 
Shall  profit  thee  and  much  enrich  thy  book. 


86  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXVIII. 

So  oft  have  I  invok'd  thee  for  my  Muse, 
And  found  such  fair  assistance  in  my  verse, 
As  every  alien  pen  hath  got  my  use 
And  under  thee  their  poesy  disperse. 
Thine  eyes,  that  taught  the  dumb  on  high  to  sing 
And  heavy  ignorance  aloft  to  fly, 
Have  added  feathers  to  the  learned's  wing 
And  given  grace  a  double  majesty. 
Yet  be  most  proud  of  that  which  I  compile, 
Whose  influence  is  thine  and  born  of  thee: 
In  others'  works  thou  dost  but  mend  the  style, 
And  arts  with  thy  sweet  graces  graced  be ; 
But  thou  art  all  my  art,  and  dost  advance 
As  high  as  learning  my  rude  ignorance. 


LXXIX. 

Whilst  I  alone  did  call  upon  thy  aid, 
My  verse  alone  had  all  thy  gentle  grace, 
But  now  my  gracious  numbers  are  decayed, 
And  my  sick  Muse  doth  give  another  place. 
I  grant,  sweet  love,  thy  lovely  argument 
Deserves  the  travail  of  a  worthier  pen, 
Yet  what  of  thee  thy  poet  doth  invent 
He  robs  thee  of  and  pays  it  thee  again. 
He  lends  thee  virtue,  and  he  stole  that  word 
From  thy  behaviour ;  beauty  doth  he  give, 
And  found  it  in  thy  cheek;  he  can  afford 
No  praise  to  thee  but  what  in  thee  doth  live. 
Then  thank  him  not  for  that  which  he  doth  say, 
Since  what  he  owes  thee  thou  thyself  dost  pay. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXX. 

O,  how  I  faint  when  I  of  you  do  write, 
Knowing  a  better  spirit  doth  use  your  name, 
And  in  the  praise  thereof  spends  all  his  might, 
To  make  me  tongue-tied,  speaking  of  your  fame  ! 
But  since  your  worth,  wide  as  the  ocean  is, 
The  humble  as  the  proudest  sail  doth  bear, 
My  saucy  bark,  inferior  far  to  his, 
On  your  broad  main  doth  wilfully  appear. 
Your  shallowest  help  will  hold  me  up  afloat, 
Whilst  he  upon  your  soundless  deep  doth  ride ; 
Or,  being  wrack'd,  I  am  a  worthless  boat, 
He  of  tall  building  and  of  goodly  pride. 
Then  if  he  thrive  and  I  be  cast  away, 
The  worst  was  this, — my  love  was  my  decay. 

LXXXI. 

Or  I  shall  live  your  epitaph  to  make, 
Or  you  survive  when  I  in  earth  am  rotten ; 
From  hence  your  memory  death  cannot  take, 
Although  in  me  each  part  will  be  forgotten. 
Your  name  from  hence  immortal  life  shall  have, 
Though  I,  once  gone,  to  all  the  world  must  die; 
The  earth  can  yield  me  but  a  common  grave, 
When  you  entombed  in  men's  eyes  shall  lie. 
Your  monument  shall  be  my  gentle  verse, 
Which  eyes  not  yet  created  shall  o'er-read, 
And  tongues  to  be  your  being  shall  rehearse 
When  all  the  breathers  of  this  world  are  dead ; 
You  still  shall  live — such  virtue  hath  my  pen — 
Where  breath  most  breathes,  even  in  the  mouths  of 
men. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXXII. 

I  grant  thou  wert  not  married  to  my  Muse, 
And  therefore  mayst  without  attaint  o'erlook 
The  dedicated  words  which  writers  use 
Of  their  fair  subject,  blessing  every  book. 
Thou  art  as  fair  in  knowledge  as  in  hue, 
Finding  thy  worth  a  limit  past  my  praise, 
And  therefore  art  enforc'd  to  seek  anew 
Some  fresher  stamp  of  the  time-bettering  days. 
And  do  so,  love;  yet  when  they  have  clevis'd 
What  strained  touches  rhetoric  can  lend, 
Thou  truly  fair  wert  truly  sympathiz'd 
In  true  plain  words  by  thy  true-telling  friend  ; 
And  their  gross  painting  might  be  better  us'd 
Where  cheeks  need  blood ;  in  thee  it  is  abus'd. 


LXXXIII. 

I  never  saw  that  you  did  painting  need, 
And  therefore  to  your  fair  no  painting  set; 
I  found,  or  thought  I  found,  you  did  exceed 
The  barren  tender  of  a  poet's  debt ; 
And  therefore  have  I  slept  in  your  report, 
That  you  yourself  being  extant  well  might  show 
How  far  a  modern  quill  doth  come  too  short, 
Speaking  of  worth,  what  worth  in  you  doth  grow. 
This  silence  for  my  sin  you  did  impute, 
Which  shall  be  most  my  glory,  being  dumb; 
For  I  impair  not  beauty  being  mute, 
When  others  would  give  life  and  bring  a  tomb. 
There  lives  more  life  in  one  of  your  fair  eyes 
Than  both  your  poets  can  in  praise  devise. 


SHAKESPEAR&S  SONNETS. 


LXXXIV. 


89 


Who  is  it  that  says  most?  which  can  say  more 
Than  this  rich  praise,  that  you  alone  are  you  ? 
In  whose  confine  immured  is  the  store 
Which  should  example  where  your  equal  grew. 
Lean  penury  within  that  pen  doth  dwell. 
That  to  his  subject  lends  not  some  small  glory; 
But  he  that  writes  of  you,  if  he  can  tell 
That  you  are  you,  so  dignifies  his  story. 
Let  him  but  copy  what  in  you  is  writ, 
Not  making  worse  what  nature  made  so  clear, 
And  such  a  counterpart  shall  fame  his  wit, 
Making  his  style  admired  every  where. 

You  to  your  beauteous  blessings  add  a  curse, 
Being  fond  on  praise,  which  makes  your  praises  worse. 


LXXXV. 

My  tongue-tied  Muse  in  manners  holds  her  still, 
While  comments  of  your  praise,  richly  compil'd, 
Reserve  their  character  with  golden  quill 
And  precious  phrase  by  all  the  Muses  fil'd. 
I  think  good  thoughts  whilst  other  write  good  words, 
And,  like  unletter'd  clerk,  still  cry  *  Amen  ' 
To  every  hymn  that  able  spirit  affords 
In  polish'd  form  of  well-refined  pen. 
Hearing  you  prais'd,  I  say  '  'T  is  so,  't  is  true/ 
And  to  the  most  of  praise  add  something  more ; 
But  that  is  in  my  thought,  whose  love  to  you, 
Though  words  come  hindmost,  holds  his  rank  before. 
Then  others  for  the  breath  of  words  respect, 
Me  for  my  dumb  thoughts,  speaking  in  effect. 


90  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


LXXXVI. 

Was  it  the  proud  full  sail  of  his  great  verse, 
Bound  for  the  prize  of  all  too  precious  you, 
That  did  my  ripe  thoughts  in  my  brain  inhearse, 
Making  their  tomb  the  womb  wherein  they  grew? 
Was  it  his  spirit,  by  spirits  taught  to  write 
Above  a  mortal  pitch,  that  struck  me  dead  ? 
No,  neither  he,  nor  his  compeers  by  night 
Giving  him  aid,  my  verse  astonished. 
He,  nor  that  affable  familiar  ghost 
Which  nightly  gulls  him  with  intelligence, 
As  victors  of  my  silence  cannot  boast ; 
I  was  not  sick  of  any  fear  from  thence : 

But  when  your  countenance  fill'd  up  his  line, 
Then  lack'd  I  matter ;  that  enfeebled  mine. 


LXXXVII. 

Farewell !  thou  art  too  dear  for  my  possessing, 
And  like  enough  thou  know'st  thy  estimate : 
The  charter  of  thy  worth  gives  thee  releasing; 
My  bonds  in  thee  are  all  determinate. 
For  how  do  I  hold  thee  but  by  thy  granting? 
And  for  that  riches  where  is  my  deserving? 
The  cause  of  this  fair  gift  in  me  is  wanting, 
And  so  my  patent  back  again  is  swerving. 
Thyself  thou  gav'st,  thy  own  worth  then  not  knowing, 
Or  me,  to  whom  thou  gav'st  it,  else  mistaking ; 
So  thy  great  gift,  upon  misprision  growing, 
Comes  home  again,  on  better  judgment  making. 
Thus  have  I  had  thee,  as  a  dream  doth  flatter 
In  sleep  a  king,  but  waking  no  such  matter. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


Lxxxvnr. 

When  thou  shall  be  disposed  to  set  me.  light, 
And  place  my  merit  in  the  eye  of  scorn, 
Upon  thy  side  against  myself  I  '11  fight, 
And  prove  thee  virtuous,  though  thou  art  forsworn. 
With  mine  own  weakness  being  best  acquainted, 
Upon  thy  part  I  can  set  down  a  story 
Of  faults  conceal'd,  wherein  I  am  attainted, 
That  thou  in  losing  me  shalt  win  much  glory: 
And  I  by  this  will  be  a  gainer  too ; 
P'or,  bending  all  my  loving  thoughts  on  thee, 
The  injuries  that  to  myself  I  do, 
Doing  thee  vantage,  double-vantage  me. 
Such  is  my  love,  to  thee  I  so  belong, 
That  for  thy  right  myself  will  bear  all  wrong. 


LXXXIX. 

Say  that  thou  didst  forsake  me  for  some  fault, 
And  I  will  comment  upon  that  offence ; 
Speak  of  my  lameness,  and  I  straight  will  halt, 
Against  thy  reasons  making  no  defence. 
Thou  canst  not,  love,  disgrace  me  half  so  ill, 
To  set  a  form  upon  desired  change, 
As  I  '11  myself  disgrace:  knowing  thy  will, 
I  will  acquaintance  strangle  and  look  strange, 
Be  absent  from  thy  walks,  and  in  my  tongue 
Thy  sweet  beloved  name  no  more  shall  dwell, 
Lest  I,  too  much  profane,  should  do  it  wrong 
And  haply  of  our  old  acquaintance  tell. 
For  thee  against  myself  I  '11  vow  debate, 
For  I  must  ne'er  love  him  whom  thou  dost  hate. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XC. 


(£> 


Then  hate  me  when  thou  wilt — if  ever,  now; 

Now,  while  the  world  is  bent  my  deeds  to  cross, 

Join  with  the  spite  of  fortune,  make  me  bow, 

And  do  not  drop  in  for  an  after-loss. 

Ah,  do  not,  when  my  heart  hath  scap'd  this  sorrow, 

Come  in  the  rearward  of  a  conquered  woe ; 

Give  not  a  windy  night  a  rainy  morrow, 

To  linger  out  a  purpos'd  overthrow. 

If  thou  wilt  leave  me,  do  not  leave  me  last, 

When  other  petty  griefs  have  clone  their  spite, 

But  in  the  onset  come;  so  shall  I  taste 

At  first  the  very  worst  of  fortune's  might, 

And  other  strains  of  woe,  which  now  seem  woe, 
Compar'd  with  loss  of  thee  will  not  seem  so. 


XCL 

•^ 

Some  glory  in  their  birth,  some  in  their  skill, 
Some  in  their  wealth,  some  in  their  bodies'  force, 
Some  in  their  garments,  though  new-fangled  ill, 
Some  in  their  hawks  and  hounds,  some  in  their  horse  ; 
And  every  humour  hath  his  adjunct  pleasure, 
Wherein  it  finds  a  joy  above  the  rest : 
But  these  particulars  are  not  my  measure ; 
All  these  I  better  in  one  general  best. 
Thy  love  is  better  than  high  birth  to  me, 
Richer  than  wealth,  prouder  than  garments'  cost, 
Of  more  delight  than  hawks  or  horses  be; 
Andj having  thee,  of  all  men's  pride  I  boast: 
Wretched  in  this  alone,  that  thou  mayst  take 
All  this  away  and  me  most  wretched  make. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XCII. 

But  do  thy  worst  to  steal  thyself  away, 
For  term  of  life  thou  art  assured  mine, 
And  life  no  longer  than  thy  -love  will  stay, 
For  it  depends  upon  that  love  of  thine. 
Then  need  I  not  to  fear  the  worst  of  wrongs, 
When  in  the  least  of  them  my  life  hath  end. 
I  see  a  better  state  to  me  belongs 
Than  that  which  on  thy  humour  doth  depend ; 
Thou  canst  not  vex  me  with  inconstant  mind, 
Since  that  my  life  on  thy  revolt  doth  lie. 
O,  what  a  happy  title  do  I  find, 
Happy  to  have  thy  love,  happy  to  die  ! 

But  what 's  so  blessed-fair  that  fears  no  blot  ? 

Thou  mayst  be  false,  and  yet  I  know  it  not. 


xcin.  A> 

So  shall  I  live,  supposing  thou  art  true, 
Like  a  deceived  husband;  so  love's  face 
May  still  seem  love  to  me,  though  alter'd  new, 
Thy  looks  with  me,  thy  heart  in  other  place  ; 
For  there  can  live  no  hatred  in  thine  eye, 
Therefore  in  that  I  cannot  know  thy  change. 
•  In  many's  looks  the  false  heart's  history 
Is  writ  in  moods  and  frowns  and  wrinkles  strange, 
But  heaven  in  thy  creation  did  decree 
That  in  thy  face  sweet  love  should  ever  dwell; 
Whate'er  thy  thoughts  or  thy  heart's  workings  be, 
Thy  looks  should  nothing  thence  but  sweetness  tell. 
How  like  Eve's  apple  doth  thy  beauty  grow, 
If  thy  sweet  virtue  answer  not  thy  show ! 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

-    o 

XCIV. 

They  that  have  power  to  hurt  and  will  do  none, 
That  do  not  do  the  thing  they  most  do  show, 
Who,  moving  others,  are  themselves  as  stone, 
Unmoved,  cold,  and  to  temptation  slow, 
They  rightly  do  inherit  heaven's  graces 
And  husband  nature's  riches  from  expense  ; 
They  are  the  lords  and  owners  of  their  faces, 
Others  but  stewards  of  their  excellence. 
The  summer's  flower  is  to  the  summer  sweet, 
Though  to  itself  it  only  live  and  die, 
But  if  that  flower  with  base  infection  meet, 
The  basest  weed  outbraves  his  dignity : 

For  sweetest  things  turn  sourest  by  their  deeds  : 
Lilies  that  fester  smell  far  worse  than  weeds. 

xcv. 

How  sweet  and  lovely  dost  thou  make  the  shame 
Which,  like  a  canker  in  the  fragrant  rose, 
Doth  spot  the  beauty  of  thy  budding  name  ! 
O,  in  what  sweets  dost  thou  thy  sins  enclose  ! 
That  tongue  that  tells  the  story  of  thy  days, 
Making  lascivious  comments  on  thy  sport, 
Cannot  dispraise  but  in  a  kind  of  praise  ; 
Naming  thy  name  blesses  an  ill  report. 
O,  what  a  mansion  have  those  vices  got 
Which  for  their  habitation  chose  out  thee, 
Where  beauty's  veil  doth  cover  every  blot, 
And  all  things  turn  to  fair  that  eyes  can  see  ! 

Take  heecl.  dear  heart,  of  this  large  privilege; 

The  hardest  knife  ill-us'd  doth  lose  his  edge. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XCVI. 

Some  say  thy  fault  is  youth,  some  wantonness; 
Some  say  thy  grace  is  youth  and  gentle  sport: 
Both  grace  and  faults  are  lov'd  of  more  and  less ; 
Thou  mak'st  faults  graces  that  to  thee  resort. 
As  on  the  finger  of  a  throned  queen 
The  basest  jewel  will  be  well  esteem'd, 
So  are  those  errors  that  in  thee  are  seen 
To  truths  translated  and  for  true  things  deem'd. 
How  many  lambs  might  the  stern  wolf  betray, 
If  like  a  lamb  he  could  his  looks  translate ! 
How  many  gazers  mightst  thou  lead  away, 
If  thou  wouldst  use  the  strength  of  all  thy  state ! 
But  do  not  so ;  I  love  thee  in  such  sort 
As,  thou  being  mine,  mine  is  thy  good  report. 


XCVII. 


How  like  a  winter  hath  my  absence  been 
From  thee,  the  pleasure  of  the  fleeting  year  ! 
What  freezings  have  I  felt,  what  dark  days  seen! 
What  old  December's  bareness  every  where  ! 
And  yet  this  time  remov'd  was  summer's  time, 
The  teeming  autumn,  big  with  rich  increase, 
Bearing  the  wanton  burthen  of  the  prime, 
Like  widow'd  wombs  after  their  lords'  decease  : 
Yet  this  abundant  issue  seem'd  to  me 
But  hope  of  orphans  and  unfathered  fruit, 
For  summer  and  his  pleasures  wait  on  thee, 
And,  thou  away,  the  very  birds  are  mute  ; 
Or,  if  they  sing,  't  is  with  so  dull  a  cheer 
That  leaves  look  pale,  dreading  the  winter  's  near. 


96 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


XCVIII. 

From  you  have  I  been  absent  in  the  spring, 
When  proud-pied  April  dress'd  in  all  his  trim 
Hath  put  a  spirit  of  youth  in  every  thing, 
That  heavy  Saturn  laugh'd  and  leap'cl  with  him. 
Yet  nor  the  lays  of  birds  nor  the  sweet  smell 
Of  different  flowers  in  odour  and  in  hue 
Could  make  me  any  summer's  story  tell, 
Or  from  their  proud  lap  pluck  them  where  they  grew ; 
Nor  did  I  wonder  at  the  lily's  white, 
Nor  praise  the  deep  vermilion  in  the  rose  : 
They  were  but  sweet,  but  figures  of  delight, 
Drawn  after  you,  you  pattern  of  all  those. 
Yet  seem'd  it  winter  still,  and,  you  away, 
As  with  your  shadow  I  with  these  did  play. 

XCIX. 

The  forward  violet  thus  did  I  chide ; 

Sweet  thief,  whence  didst   thou   steal   tliy"  sweet   that 

smells, 

If  not  from  my  love's  breath?     The  purple  pride 
Which  on  thy  soft  cheek  for  complexion  dwells 
In  my  love's  veins  thou  hast  too  grossly  dyed. 
The  lily  I  condemned  for  thy  hand, 
And  buds  of  marjoram  had  stolen  thy  hair; 
The  roses  fearfully  on  thorns  did  stand, 
One  blushing  shame,  another  white  despair; 
A  third,  nor  red  nor  white,  had  stolen  of  both, 
And  to  his  robbery  had  annex'd  thy  breath  ; 
But,  for  his  theft,  in  pride  of  all  his  growth 
A  vengeful  canker  eat  him  up  to  death. 
More  flowers  I  noted,  yet  I  none  could  see 
But  sweet  or  colour  it  had  stolen  from  thee. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  97 


C. 

Where  art  thou,  Muse,  that  thou  forget'st  so  long 
To  speak  of  that  which  gives  thee  all  thy  might  ? 
Spend'st  thou  thy  fury  on  some  worthless  song, 
Darkening  thy  power  to  lend  base  subjects  light? 
Return,  forgetful  Muse,  and  straight  redeem 
In  gentle  numbers  time  so  idly  spent; 
Sing  to  the  ear  that  doth  thy  lays  esteem 
And  gives  thy  pen  both  skill  and  argument. 
Rise,  resty  Muse,  my  love's  sweet  face  survey, 
If  Time  have  any  wrinkle  graven  there; 
If  any,  be  a  satire  to  decay, 
And  make  Time's  spoils  despised  every  where. 

Give  my  love  fame  faster  than  Time  wastes  life ; 

So  thou  prevent'st  his  scythe  and  crooked  knife. 


CL 

O  truant  Muse,  what  shall  be  thy  amends 

For  thy  neglect  of  truth  in  beauty  dyed  ? 

Both  truth  and  beauty  on  my  love  depends ; 

So  dost  thou  too,  and  therein  dignified. 

Make  answer,  Muse  :  wilt  thou  not  haply  say 

'  Truth  needs  no  colour,  with  his  colour  fix'd ; 

Beauty  no  pencil,  beauty's  truth  to  lay; 

But  best  is  best,  if  never  intermix'd  '  ? 

Because  he  needs  no  praise,  wilt  thou  be  dumb? 

Excuse  not  silence  so  ;  for  't  lies  in  thee 

To  make  him  much  outlive  a  gilded  tomb, 

And  to  be  prais'd  of  ages  yet  to  be. 

Then  do  thy  office,  Muse  ;  I  teach  thee  how 
To  make  him  seem  long  hence  as  he  shows  now. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CII. 

My  love  is  strengthen'd,  though  more  weak  in  seeming 
I  love  not  less,  though  less  the  show  appear : 
That  love  is  merchandiz'd  whose  rich  esteeming 
The  owner's  tongue  doth  publish  every  where. 
Our  love  was  new  and  then  but  in  the  spring 
When  I  was  wont  to  greet  it  with  my  lays, 
As  Philomel  in  summer's  front  doth  sing 
And  stops  her  pipe  in  growth  of  riper  days; 
Not  that  the  summer  is  less  pleasant  now 
Than  when  her  mournful  hymns  did  hush  the  night, 
But  that  wild  music  burthens  every  bough 
And  sweets  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight. 
Therefore  like  her  I  sometime  hold  my  tongue, 
Because  I  would  not  dull  you  with  my  song. 


CHI. 

Alack,  what  poverty  my  muse  brings  forth, 
That,  having  such  a  scope  to  show  her  pride, 
The  argument  all  bare  is  of  more  worth 
Than  when  it  hath  my  added  praise  beside  ! 
O,  blame  me  not,  if  I  no  more  can  write  ! 
Look  in  your  glass,  and  there  appears  a  face 
That  overgoes  my  blunt  invention  quite, 
Dulling  my  lines  and  doing  me  disgrace. 
Were  it  not  sinful  then,  striving  to  mend, 
To  mar  the  subject  that  before  was  well  ? 
For  to  no  other  pass  my  verses  tend 
Than  of  your  graces  and  your  gifts  to  tell ; 

And  more,  much  more,  than  in  my  verse  can  sit 
Your  own  glass  shows  you  when  you  look  in  it. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 

(  : 

To  me,  fair  friend,  you  never  can  be  old, 
For  as  you  were  when  first  your  eye  I  eyed, 
Such  seems  your  beauty  still.     Three  winters  cold 
Have  from  the  forests  shook  three  summers'  pride, 
,  Three  beauteous  springs  to  yellow  autumn  turn'd 
In  process  of  the  seasons  have  I  seen, 
Three  April  perfumes  in  three  hot  Junes  burn'd, 
Since  first  I  saw  you  fresh,  which  yet  are  green. 
Ah  !  yet  doth  beauty,  like  a  dial-hand, 
Steal  from  his  figure  and  no  pace  perceiv'd ; 
So  your  sweet  hue,  which  methinks  still  doth  stand, 
Hath  motion  and  mine  eye  may  be  deceiv'd  : 
For  fear  of  which,  hear  this,  thou  age  unbred  : 
Ere-  you  were  born  was  beauty's  summer  dead. 


CV. 

Let  not  my  love  be  call'd  idolatry, 
Nor  my  beloved  as  an  idol  show, 
Since  all  alike  my  songs  and  praises  be 
To  one,  of  one,.still  such,  and  ever  so. 
Kind  is  my  love  to-day,  to-morrow  kind, 
Still  constant  in  a  wondrous  excellence; 
Therefore  my  verse  to  constancy  confin'd, 
One  thing  expressing,  leaves  out  difference. 
4  Fair,  kind,  and  true  '  is  all  my  argument, 
6  Fair,  kind,  and  true  '  varying  to  other  words ; 
And  in  this  change  is  my  invention  spent, 
Three  themes  in  one,  which  wondrous  scope  affords. 
1  Fair,  kind,  and  true  'have  often  liv'd  alone, 
Which  three  till  now  never  kept  seat  in  one. 


I00  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CVI.  v? 

When  in  the  chronicle  of  wasted  time 
I  see  descriptions  of  the  fairest  wights, 
And  beauty  making  beautiful  old  rhyme 
In  praise  of  ladies  cleacl  and  lovely  knights, 
Then,  in  the  blazon  of  sweet  beauty's  best, 
Of  hand,  of  foot,  of  lip,  of  eye,  of  brow, 
I  see  their  antique  pen  would  have  express'd 
Even  such  a  beauty  as  you  master  now. 
So  all  their  praises  are  but  prophecies 
Of  this  our  time,  all  you  prefiguring; 
And,  for  they  look'd  but  with  divining  eyes, 
They  had  not  skill  enough  your  worth  to  sing: 
For  we,  which  now  behold  these  present  days, 
Have  eyes  to  wonder,  but  lack  tongues  to  praise. 


CVII. 


Not  mine  own  fears,  nor  the  prophetic  soul 
Of  the  wide  world  dreaming  on  things  to  come, 
Can  yet  the  lease  of  my  true  love  control, 
Suppos'd  as  forfeit  to  a  con  fin 'd  doom. 
The  mortal  moon  hath  her  eclipse  endur'd, 
And  the  sad  augurs  mock  their  own  presage ; 
Incertainties  now  crown  themselves  assur'd, 
And  peace  proclaims  olives  of  endless  age. 
Now  with  the  drops  of  this  most  balmy  time 
My  love  looks  fresh,  and  Death  to  me  subscribes, 
Since,  spite  of  him,  I  '11  live  in  this  poor  rhyme, 
While  he  insults  o'er  dull  and  speechless  tribes ; 
And  thou  in  this  shalt  find  thy  monument, 
When  tyrants'  crests  and  tombs  of  brass  are  spent. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  IOI 


CVIII. 

What 's  in  the  brain  that  ink  may  character 
Which  hath  not  figur'd  to  thee  my  true  spirit  ? 
What 's  new  to  speak,  what  new  to  register, 
That  may  express  my  love  or  thy  dear  merit  ? 
Nothing,  sweet  boy ;  but  yet,  like  prayers  divine, 
I  must  each  day  say  o'er  the  very  same, 
Counting  no  old  thing  old,  thou  mine,  I  thine, 
Even  as  when  first  I  hallow'd  thy  fair  name. 
So  that  eternal  love  in  love's  fresh  case 
\Veighs  not  the  dust  and  injury  of  age, 
Nor  gives  to  necessary  wrinkles  place, 
But  makes  antiquity  for  aye  his  page, 

Finding  the  first  conceit  of  love  there  bred 
Where  time  and  outward  form  would  show  it  dead. 


CIX. 

O,  never  say  that  I  was  false  of  heart, 
Though  absence  seem'd  my  flame  to  qualify. 
As  easy  might  I  from  myself  depart 
As  from  my  soul,  which  in  thy  breast  doth  lie: 
That  is  my  home  of  love;  if  I  have  rang'd,      . 
Like  him  that  travels  I  return  again, 
Just  to  the  time,  not  with  the  time  exchang'd, 
So  that  myself  bring  water  for  my  stain. 
Never  believe,  though  in  my  nature  reign'd 
All  frailties  that  besiege  all  kinds  of  blood, 
That  it  could  so  preposterously  be  stain'd, 
To  leave  for  nothing  all  thy  sum  of  good; 
For  nothing  this  wide  universe  I  call, 
Save  thou,  my  rose;  in  it  thou  art  my  all. 
21 


I02  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


ex. 

Alas,  't  is  true  I  have  gone  here  and  there 

And  made  myself  a  motley  to  the  view, 

Gor'd  mine  own  thoughts,  sold  cheap  what  is  most  dear. 

Made  old  offences  of  affections  new ; 

Most  true  it  is  that  I  have  look'd  on  truth 

Askance  and  strangely:  but,  by  all  above, 

These  blenches  gave  my  heart  another  youth, 

And  worse  essays  prov'd  thee  my  best  of  love. 

Now  all  is  done,  have  what  shall  have  no  end; 

Mine  appetite  I  never  more  will  grind 

On  newer  proof,  to  try  an  older  friend, 

A  god  in  love,  to  whom  I  am  confin'd. 

Then  give  me  welcome,  next  my  heaven  the  best, 
Even  to  thy  pure  and  most  most  loving  breast. 


CXI. 

O,  for  my  sake  do  you  with  Fortune  chide, 
The  guilty  goddess  of  my  harmful  deeds, 
That  did  not  better  for  my  life  provide 
Than  public  means  which  public  manners  breeds. 
Thence  comes  it  that  my  name  receives  a  brand, 
And  almost  thence  my  nature  is  subdued 
To  what  it  works  in,  like  the  dyer's  hand. 
Pity  me  then  and  wish  I  were  renew'd, 
Whilst,  like  a  willing  patient,  I  will  drink 
Potions  of  eisel  'gainst  my  strong  infection  ; 
No  bitterness  that  I  will  bitter  think, 
Nor  double  penance,  to  correct  correction. 
Pity  me  then,  dear  friend,  and  I  assure  ye 
Even  that  your  pity  is  enough  to  cure  me. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXII. 

Your  love  and  pity  doth  the  impression  fill 
Which  vulgar  scandal  stamp'd  upon  my  brow; 
For  what  care  I  who  calls  me  well  or  ill, 
So  you  o'er-green  my  bad,  my  good  allow  ? 
You  are  my  all  the  world,  and  I  must  strive 
To  know  my  shames  and  praises  from  your  tongue; 
None  else  to  me,  nor  I  to  none  alive, 
That  my  steePd  sense  or  changes  right  or  wrong. 
In  so  profound  abysm  I  throw  all  care 
Of  others'  voices,  that  my  adder's  sense 
To  critic  and  to  flatterer  stopped  are. 
Mark  how  with  my  neglect  I  do  dispense : 
You  are  so  strongly  in  my  purpose  bred 
That  all  the  world  besides  methinks  are  dead. 


CXIII. 

Since  I  left  you,  mine  eye  is  in  my  mind, 

And  that  which  governs  me  to  go  about 

Doth  part  his  function  and  is  partly  blind, 

Seems  seeing,  but  effectually  is  out; 

For  it  no  form  delivers  to  the  heart 

Of  bird,  of  flower,  or  shape,  which  it  doth  latch. 

Of  his  quick  objects  hath  the  mind  no  part, 

Nor  his  own  vision  holds  what  it  doth  catch ; 

For  if  it  see  the  rud'st  or  gentlest  sight, 

The  most  sweet  favour  or  deformed'st  creature, 

The  mountain  or  the  sea,  the  day  or  night, 

The  crow  or  dove,  it  shapes  them  to  your  feature : 

Incapable  of  more,  replete  with  you, 

My  most  true  mind  thus  makes  mine  eye  untrue. 


I04  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXIV. 

Or  whether  doth  my  mind,  being  crown'd  with  you, 
Drink  up  the  monarch's  plague,  this  flattery? 
Or  whether  shall  I  say,  mine  eye  saith  true, 
And  that  your  love  taught  it  this  alchemy, 
To  make  of  monsters  and  things  indigest 
Such  cherubins  as  your  sweet  self  resemble, 
Creating  every  bad  a  perfect  best, 
As  fast  as  objects  to  his  beams  assemble  ? 
O,  't  is  the  first;  't  is  flattery  in  my  seeing, 
And  my  great  mind  most  kingly  drinks  it  up: 
Mine  eye  well  knows  what  with  his  gust  is  greeing, 
And  to  his  palate  doth  prepare  the  cup ; 
If  it  be  poison'd,  't  is  the  lesser  sin 
That  mine  eye  loves  it  and  doth  first  begin. 


CXV. 

Those  lines  that  I  before  have  writ  do  lie, 
Even  those  that  said  I  could  not  love  you  dearer ; 
Yet  then  my  judgment  knew  no  reason  why 
My  most  full  flame  should  afterwards  burn  clearer. 
But,  reckoning  time,  whose  million'd  accidents 
Creep  in  'twixt  vows  and  change  decrees  of  kings, 
Tan  sacred  beauty,  blunt  the  sharp'st  intents, 
Divert  strong  minds  to  the  course  of  altering  things, 
Alas,  why,  fearing  of  time's  tyranny, 
Might  I  not  then  say  '  Now  I  love  you  best/ 
When  I  was  certain  o'er  incertainty, 
Crowning  the  present,  doubting  of  the  rest? 
Love  is  a  babe ;  then  might  I  not  say  so, 
To  give  full  growth  to  that  which  still  doth  grow  ? 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXVI. 


Let  me  not  to  the  marriage  of  true  minds 

Admit  impediments.     Love  is  not  love 

Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 

Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remove: 

O.  no  !  it  is  an  ever-fixed  mark 

That  looks  on  tempests  and  is  never  shaken ; 

It  is  the  star  to  every  wandering  bark, 

Whose  worth  's  unknown,  although  his  height  be  taken. 

Love's  not  Time's  fool,  though  rosy  lips  and  cheeks 

Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come; 

Love  alters  not  with  his  brief  hours  and  weeks, 

But  bears  it  out  even  to  the  edge  of  doom. 

If  this  be  error  and  upon  me  prov'd, 

I  never  writ,  nor  no  man  ever  lov'd. 


CXVII. 

Accuse  me  thus:  that  I  have  scanted  all 
Wherein  I  should  your  great  deserts  repay, 
Forgot  upon  your  dearest  love  to  call, 
Whereto  all  bonds  do  tie  me  day  by  day ; 
That  I  have  frequent  been  with  unknown  minds 
And  given  to  time  your  own  dear-purchas'd  right; 
That  I  have  hoisted  sail  to  all  the  winds 
Which  should  transport  me  farthest  from  your  sight. 
Book  both  my  wilfulness  and  errors  down, 
And  on  just  proof  surmise  accumulate; 
Bring  me  within  the  level  of  your  frown, 
But  shoot  not  at  me  in  your  waken'd  hate; 
Since  my  appeal  says  I  did  strive  to  prove 
The  constancy  and  virtue  of  your  love. 


I06  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXVIII. 

Like  as,  to  make  our  appetites  more  keen, 
With  eager  compounds  we  our  palate  urge, 
As,  to  prevent  our  maladies  unseen, 
We  sicken  to  shun  sickness  when  we  purge, 
Even  so,  being  full  of  your  ne'er-cloying  sweetness, 
To  bitter  sauces  did  I  frame  my  feeding, 
And,  sick  of  welfare,  found  a  kind  of  meetness 
To  be  diseas'd  ere  that  there  was  true  needing. 
Thus  policy  in  love,  to  anticipate 
The  ills  that  were  not,  grew  to  faults  assur'd 
And  brought  to  medicine  a  healthful  state 
Which,  rank  of  goodness,  would  by  ill  be  cur'd  ; 
But  thence  I  learn,  and  find  the  lesson  true, 
Drugs  poison  him  that  so  fell  sick  of  you. 


CXIX. 

What  potions  have  I  drunk  of  Siren  tears, 
Distill'd  from  limbecks  foul  as  hell  within, 
Applying  fears  to  hopes  and  hopes  to  fears, 
Still  losing  when  I  saw  myself  to  win  ! 
What  wretched  errors  hath  my  heart  committed, 
Whilst  it  hath  thought  itself  so  blessed  never! 
How  have  mine  eyes  out  of  their  spheres  been  fitted 
In  the  distraction  of  this  madding  fever! 
O  benefit  of  ill !  'now  I  find  true 
That  better  is  by  evil  still  made  better; 
And  ruin'd  love,  when  it  is  built  anew, 
Grows  fairer  than  at  first,  more  strong,  far  greater. 
So  I  return  rebuk'd  to  my  content, 
And  gain  by  ill  thrice  more  than  I  have  spent. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


cxx. 

That  you  were  once  unkind  befriends  me  now, 
And  for  that  sorrow  which  I  then  did  feel 
Needs  must  I  under  my  transgression  bow, 
Unless  my  nerves  were  brass  or  hammer'd  steel. 
For  if  you  were  by  my  unkindness  shaken 
As  I  by  yours,  you've  pass'd  a  hell  of  time, 
And  I,  a  tyrant,  have  no  leisure  taken 
To  weigh  how  once  I  suffer'd  in  your  crime. 
O,  that  our  night  of  woe  might  have  remember'd 
My  deepest  sense,  how  hard  true  sorrow  hits, 
And  soon  to  you,  as  you  to  me,  then  tendered 
The  humble  salve  which  wounded  bosoms  fits ! 

But  that  your  trespass  now  becomes  a  fee ; 

Mine  ransoms  yours,  and  yours  must  ransom  me. 


CXXI. 

'T  is  better  to  be  vile  than  vile  esteem'd, 
When  not  to  be  receives  reproach  of  being, 
And  the  just  pleasure  lost  which  is  so  deem'd 
Not  by  our  feeling  but  by  others'  seeing; 
For  why  should  others'  false  adulterate  eyes 
Give  salutation  to  my  sportive  blood  ? 
Or  on  my  frailties  why  are  frailer  spies, 
Which  in  their  wills  count  bad  what  I  think  good? 
No,  I  am  that  I  am,  and  they  that  level 
At  my  abuses  reckon  up  their  own: 
I  may  be  straight,  though  they  themselves  be  bevel ; 
By  their  rank  thoughts  my  deeds  must  not  be  shown  ; 
Unless  this  general  evil  they  maintain, 
All  men  are  bad,  and  in  their  badness  reign. 


I0g  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXIL 

Thy  gift,  thy  tables,  are  within  my  brain 
Full  character'd  with  lasting  memory, 
Which  shall  above  that  idle  rank  remain 
Beyond  all  date,  even  to  eternity ; 
Or,  at  the  least,  so  long  as  brain  and  heart 
Have  faculty  by  nature  to  subsist ; 
Till  each  to  raz'd  oblivion  yield  his  part 
Of  thee,  thy  record  never  can  be  miss'd. 
That  poor  retention  could  not  so  much  hold, 
Nor  need  I  tallies  thy  dear  love  to  score  ; 
Therefore  to  give  them  from  me  was  I  bold, 
To  trust  those  tables  that  receive  thee  more  : 
To  keep  an  adjunct  to  remember  thee 
Were  to  import  forgetfulness  in  me. 


CXXIII. 

No,  Time,  thou  shalt  not  boast  that  I  do  change: 
Thy  pyramids  built  up  with  newer  might 
To  me  are  nothing  novel, nothing  strange; 
They  are  but  dressings  of  a  former  sight. 
Our  dates  are  brief,  and  therefore  we  admire 
What  thou  dost  foist  upon  us  that  is  old, 
And  rather  make  them  born  to  our  desire 
Than  think  that  we  before  have  heard  them  told. 
Thy  registers  and  thee  I  both  defy, 
Not  wondering  at  the  present  nor  the  past, 
For  thy  records  and  what  we  see  doth  lie, 
Made  more  or  less  by  thy  continual  haste. 
This  I  do  vow  and  this  shall  ever  be  : 
I  will  be  true,  despite  thy  scythe  and  thee. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  IO9 


CXXIV. 

If  my  dear  love  were  but  the  child  of  state, 
It  might  for  Fortune's  bastard  be  unfather'd, 
As  subject  to  Time's  love  or  to  Time's  hate, 
Weeds  among  weeds,  or  flowers  with  flowers  gather'd. 
No,  it  was  builded  far  from  accident ; 
It  suffers  not  in  smiling  pomp,  nor  falls 
Under  the  blow  of  thralled  discontent, 
Whereto  the  inviting  time  our  fashion  calls  : 
It  fears  not  policy,  that  heretic, 
Which  works  on  leases  of  short-numbered  hours, 
But  all  alone  stands  hugely  politic, 
That  it  nor  grows  with  heat  nor  drowns  with  showers. 
To  this  I  witness  call  the  -fools  of  time, 
Which  die  for  goodness,  who  have  liv'd  for  crime. 


cxxv. 

Were  't  aught  to  me  I  bore  the  canopy, 
With  my  extern  the  outward  honouring, 
Or  laid  great  bases  for  eternity, 
Which  prove  more  short  than  waste  or  ruining? 
Have  I  not  seen  dwellers  on  form  and  favour 
Lose  all,  and  more,  by  paying  too  much  rent, 
For  compound  sweet  foregoing  simple  savour, 
Pitiful  thrivers,  in  their  gazing  spent? 
No,  let  rne  be  obsequious  in  thy  heart, 
And  take  thou  my  oblation,  poor  but  free, 
Which  is  not  mix'd  with  seconds,  knows  no  art, 
But  mutual  render,  only  me  for  thee. 

Hence,  thou  suborn'd  informer  !  a  true  soul 
When  most  impeach'd  stands  least  in  thy  control. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXVI. 

O  thou,  my  lovely  boy,  who  in  thy  power 
Dost  hold  Time's  fickle  glass  his  fickle  hour ; 
Who  hast  by  waning  grown,  and  therein  show'st 
Thy  lovers  withering  as  thy  sweet  self  grow'st ; 
If  Nature,  sovereign  mistress  over  wrack, 
As  thou  goest  onwards,  still  will  pluck  thee  back. 
She  keeps  thee  to  this  purpose,  that  her  skill 
May  time  disgrace  and  wretched  minutes  kill. 
Yet  fear  her.  O  thou  minion  of  her  pleasure  ! 
She  may  detain,  but  not  still  keep,  her  treasure  ; 
Her  audit,  though  delay'd,  answer'd  must  be, 
And  her  quietus  is  to  render  thee. 


CXXVII. 

In  the  old  age  black  was  not  counted  fair, 
Or  if  it  were,  it  bore  not  beauty's  name  ; 
But  now  is  black  beauty's  successive  heir, 
And  beauty  slander'd  with  a  bastard  shame : 
For  since  each  hand  hath  put  on  nature's  power. 
Fairing  the  foul  with  art's  false  borrow'd  face, 
Sweet  beauty  hath  no  name,  no  holy  bower, 
But  is  profan'd,  if  not  lives  in  disgrace. 
Therefore  my  mistress'  brows  are  raven  bhick, 
Her  eyes  so  suited,  and  they  mourners  seem 
At  such  who,  not  born  fair,  no  beauty  lack, 
Slandering  creation  with  a  false  esteem; 
Yet  so  they  mourn,  becoming  of  their  woe, 
That  every  tongue  says  beauty  should  look  so. 


SHAKESP&AR&S  SONNETS. 


CXXVIII. 

How  oft,  when  thou,  my  music,  music  play'st, 
Upon  that  bJessed  wood  whose  motion  sounds 
With  thy  sweet  fingers,  when  thou  gently  sway'st 
The  wiry  concord  that  mine  ear  confounds, 
Do  I  envy  those  jacks  that  nimble  leap 
To  kiss  the  tender  inward  of  thy  hand, 
Whilst  my  poor  lips,  which  should  that  harvest  reap, 
At  the  wood's  boldness  by  thee  blushing  stand ! 
To  be  so  tickled,  they  would  change  their  state 
And  situation  with  those  dancing  chips, 
O'er  whom  thy  fingers  walk  with  gentle  gait, 
Making  dead  wood  more  blest  than  living  lips. 
Since  saucy  jacks  so  happy  are  in  this, 
Give  them  thy  fingers,  me  thy  lips  to  kiss. 


CXXIX. 

The  expense  of  spirit  in  a  waste  of  shame 

Is  lust  in  action  ;  and  till  action,  lust 

Is  perjur'd,  murtherous,  bloody,  full  of  blame, 

Savage,  extreme,  rude,  cruel,  not  to  trust, 

Enjoy'd  no  sooner  but  despised  straight, 

Past  reason  hunted,  and  no  sooner  had 

Past  reason  hated,  as  a  swallow'd  bait 

On  purpose  laid  to  make  the  taker  mad ; 

Mad  in  pursuit  and  in  possession  so  ; 

Had,  having,  and  in  quest  to  have,  extreme  ; 

A  bliss  in  proof,  and  prov'cl,  a  very  woe  ; 

Before,  a  joy  proposed  ;  behind,  a  dream. 

All  this  the  world  well  knows ;  yet  none  knows  well 
To  shun  the  heaven  that  leads  men  to  this  hell. 


H2  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


cxxx. 

My  mistress'  eyes  are  nothing  like  the  sun  ; 

Coral  is  far  more  red  than  her  lips'  red ; 

If  snow  be  white,  why  then  her  breasts  are  dun  ; 

If  hairs  be  wires,  black  wires  grow  on  her  head. 

I  have  seen  roses  damask'd,  red  and  white, 

But  no  such  roses  see  I  in  her  cheeks ; 

And  in  some  perfumes  is  there  more  delight 

Than  in  the  breath  that  from  my  mistress  reeks. 

I  love  to  hear  her  speak,  yet  well  I  know 

That  music  hath  a  far  more  pleasing  sound ; 

I  grant  I  never  saw  a  goddess  go ; 

My  mistress,  when  she  walks,  treads  on  the  ground 
And  yet,  by  heaven,  I  think  my  love  as  rare 
As  any  she  belied  with  false  compare. 


CXXXI. 

Thou  art  as  tyrannous,  so  as  thou  art, 
As  those  whose  beauties  proudly  make  them  cruel  : 
For  well  thou  know'st  to  my  dear  doting  heart 
Thou  art  the  fairest  and  most  precious  jewel. 
Yet,  in  good  faith,  some  say  that  thee  behold 
Thy  face  hath  not  the  power  to  make  love  groan  : 
To  say  they  err  I  dare  not  be  so  bold, 
Although  I  swear  it  to  myself  alone. 
And,  to  be  sure  that  is  not  false  I  swear, 
A  thousand  groans,  but  thinking  on  thy  face, 
One  on  another's  neck,  do  witness  bear 
Thy  black  is  fairest  in  my  judgment's  place. 
In  nothing  art  thou  black  save  in  thy  deeds, 
And  thence  this  slander,  as  I  think,  proceeds. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXXII. 

Thine  eyes  I  love,  and  they,  as  pitying  me, 

Knowing  thy  heart  torments  me  with  disdain, 

Have  put  on  black  and  loving  mourners  be, 

Looking  with  pretty  ruth  upon  my  pain  ; 

And  truly  not  the  morning  sun  of  heaven 

Better  becomes  the  grey  cheeks  of  the  east, 

Nor  that  full  star  that  ushers  in  the  even 

Doth  half  that  glory  to  the  sober  west, 

As  those  two  mourning  eyes  become  thy  face. 

O,  let  it  then  as  well  beseem  thy  heart 

To  mourn  for  me,  since  mourning  doth  thee  grace, 

And  suit  thy  pity  like  in  every  part ! 

Then  will  I  swear  beauty  herself  is  black 
And  all  they  foul  that  thy  complexion  lack. 


CXXXIII. 

Beshrew  that  heart  that  makes  my  heart  to  groan 
For  that  deep  wound  it  gives  my  friend  and  me ! 
Is  7t  not  enough  to  torture  me  alone, 
But  slave  to  slavery  my  sweet'st  friend  must  be  ? 
Me  from  myself  thy  cruel  eye  hath  taken, 
And  my  next  self  thou  harder  hast  engrossed : 
Of  him,  myself,  and  thee,  I  am  forsaken  ; 
A  torment  thrice  threefold  thus  to  be  cross'd. 
Prison  my  heart  in  thy  steel  bosom's  ward, 
But  then  my  friend's  heart  let  my  poor  heart  bail ; 
Whoe'er  keeps  me,  let  my  heart  be  his  guard ; 
Thou  canst  not  then  use  rigour  in  my  gaol : 
And  yet  thou  wilt ;  for  I,  being  pent  in  thee, 
Perforce  am  thine,  and  all  that  is  in  me. 


I4  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXXIV. 

So,  now  I  have  confess'd  that  he  is  thine, 
And  I  myself  am  mortgag'd  to  thy  will, 
Myself  I  '11  forfeit,  so  that  other  mine 
Thou  wilt  restore,  to  be  my  comfort  still : 
But  thou  wilt  not,  nor  he  will  not  be  free, 
For  thou  art  covetous  and  he  is  kind ; 
He  learn'd  but  surety-like  to  write  for  me 
Under  that  bond  that  him  as  fast  doth  bind. 
The  statute  of  thy  beauty  thou  wilt  take, 
Thou  usurer,  that  putt'st  forth  all  to  use, 
And  sue  a  friend  came  debtor  for  my  sake  ; 
So  him  I  lose  through  my  unkind  abuse. 

Him  have  I  lost ;  thou  hast  both  him  and  me 
He  pays  the  whole,  and  yet  am  I  not  free. 


cxxxv. 

Whoever  hath  her  wish, thou  hast  thy  'Will,' 
And  '  Will '  to  boot,  and  '  Will '  in  overplus  ; 
More  than  enough  am  I  that  vex  thee  still, 
To  thy  sweet  will  making  addition  thus. 
Wilt  thou,  whose  will  is  large  and  spacious, 
Not  once  vouchsafe  to  hide  my  will  in  thine  ? 
Shall  will  in  others  seem  right  gracious, 
And  in  my  will  no  fair  acceptance  shine  ? 
The  sea,  all  water,  yet  receives  rain  still, 
And  in  abundance  addeth  to  his  store; 
So  thou,  being  rich  in  '  Will,'  add  to  thy  <  Will ' 
One  will  of  mine,  to  make  thy  large  '  Will '  more. 

Let  no  unkind,  no  fair  beseechers  kill ; 

Think  all  but  one,  and  me  in  that  one  '  Will.' 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXXVI. 

If  thy  soul  check  thee  that  I  come  so  near, 
Swear  to  thy  blind  soul  that  I  was  thy  '  Will/ 
And  will,  thy  soul  knows,  is  admitted  there; 
Thus  far  for  love  my  love-suit,  sweet,  fulfil. 
'Will '  will  fulfil  the  treasure  of  thy  love, 
Ay,  fill  it  full  with  wills,  and  my  will  one. 
In  things  of  great  receipt  with  ease  we  prove 
Among  a  number  one  is  reckon'd  none : 
Then  in  the  number  let  me  pass  untold, 
Though  in  thy  store's  account  I  one  must  be ; 
For  nothing  hold  me,  so  it  please  thee  hold 
That  nothing  me,  a  something  sweet  to  thee : 
Make  but  my  name  thy  love,  and  love  that  still, 
And  then  thou  lov'st  me,  for  my  name  is  '  Will.' 


CXXXVII. 

Thou  blind  fool,  Love,  what  dost  thou  to  mine  eyes, 

That  they  behold,  and  see  not  what  they  see? 

They  know  what  beauty  is,  see  where  it  lies, 

Yet  what  the  best  is  take  the  worst  to  be. 

If  eyes  corrupt  by  over-partial  looks 

Be  anchor'd  in  the  bay  where  all  men  ride, 

Why  of  eyes'  falsehood  hast  thou  forged  hooks, 

Whereto  the  judgment  of  my  heart  is  tied? 

Why  should  my  heart  think  that  a  several  plot 

Which  my  heart  knows  the  wide  world's  common  place  ? 

Or  mine  eyes,  seeing  this,  say  this  is  not, 

To  put  fair  truth  upon  so  foul  a  face  ? 

In  things  right  true  my  heart  and  eyes  have  err'd, 
And  to  this  false  plague  are  they  now  transferr'd. 


Ii6  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXXXVIII. 

When  my  love  swears  that  she  is  made  of  truth, 
I  do  believe  her,  though  I  know  she  lies, 
That  she  might  think  me  some  untutor'd  youth, 
Unlearned  in  the  world's  false  subtleties. 
Thus  vainly  thinking  that  she  thinks  me  young, 
Although  she  knows  my  days  are  past  the  best, 
Simply  I  credit  her  false-speaking  tongue; 
On  both  sides  thus  is  simple  truth  suppress'd. 
But  wherefore  says  she  not  she  is  unjust? 
And  wherefore  say  not  I  that  I  am  old  ? 
O,  love's  best  habit  is  in  seeming  trust, 
And  age  in  love  loves  not  to  have  years  told ; 
Therefore  I  lie  with  her  and  she  with  me, 
And  in  our  faults  by  lies  we  flatter'd  be. 


CXXXIX. 

O,  call  not  me  to  justify  the  wrong 
That  thy  unkindness  lays  upon  my  heart ; 
Wound  me  not  with  thine  eye,  but  with  thy  tongue ; 
Use  power  with  power,  and  slay  me  not  by  art. 
Tell  me  thou  lov'st  elsewhere,  but  in  my  sight, 
Dear  heart,  forbear  to  glance  thine  eye  aside ; 
What  need'st  thou  wound  with  cunning  when  thy  might 
Is  more  than  my  o'er-press'd  defence  can  bide  ? 
Let  me  excuse  thee :  ah !  my  love  well  knows 
Her  pretty  looks  have  been  mine  enemies, 
And  therefore  from  my  face  she  turns  my  foes, 
That  they  elsewhere  might  dart  their  injuries  ; 
Yet  do  not  so,  but  since  I  am  near  slain 
Kill  me  outright  with  looks  and  rid  my  pain. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXL. 

Be  wise  as  thou  art  cruel ;  do  not  press 
My  tongue-tied  patience  with  too  much  disdain, 
Lest  sorrow  lend  me  words,  and  words  express 
The  manner  of  my  pity-wanting  pain. 
If  I  might  teach  thee  wit,  better  it  were, 
Though  not  to  love,  yet,  love,  to  tell  me  so, 
As  testy  sick  men,  when  their  deaths  be  near, 
No  news  but  health  from  their  physicians  know ; 
For  if  I  should  despair,  I  should  grow  mad, 
And  in  my  madness  might  speak  ill  of  thee  : 
Now  this  ill-wresting  world  is  grown  so  bad, 
Mad  slanderers  by  mad  ears  believed  be. 

That  I  may  not  be  so,  nor  thou  belied, 

Bear  thine  eyes  straight,  though  thy  proud  heart  go 
wide. 

CXLI. 

In  faith,  I  do  not  love  thee  with  mine  eyes, 
For  they  in  thee  a  thousand  errors  note, 
But  't  is  my  heart  that  loves  what  they  despise, 
Who  in  despite  of  view  is  pleas'd  to  dote  ; 
Nor  are  mine  ears  with  thy  tongue's  tune  delighted, 
Nor  tender  feeling,  to  base  touches  prone, 
Nor  taste,  nor  smell,  desire  to  be  invited 
To  any  sensual  feast  with  thee  alone  : 
But  my  five  wits  nor  my  five  senses  can 
Dissuade  one  foolish  heart  from  serving  thee, 
Who  leaves  unsway'd  the  likeness  of  a  man, 
Thy  proud  heart's  slave  and  vassal  wretch  to  be ; 
Only  my  plague  thus  far  I  count  my  gain, 
That  she  that  makes  me  sin  awards  me  pain. 

22 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXLII. 

Love  is  my  sin  and  thy  dear  virtue  hate, 
Hate  of  my  sin,  grounded  on  sinful  loving: 
O,  but  with  mine  compare  thou  thine  own  state, 
And  thou  shalt  find  it  merits  not  reproving ; 
Or,  if  it  do,  not  from  those  lips  of  thine, 
That  have  profan'd  their  scarlet  ornaments 
And  seal'd  false  bonds  of  love  as  oft  as  mine, 
Robb'd  others'  beds'  revenues  of  their  rents. 
Be  it  lawful  I  love  thee,  as  thou  lov'st  those 
Whom  thine  eyes  woo  as  mine  importune  thee; 
Root  pity  in  thy  heart,  that  when  it  grows 
Thy  pity  may  deserve  to  pitied  be. 

If  thou  dost  seek  to  have  what  thou  dost  hide, 
By  self-example  mayst  thou  be  denied ! 


CXLIII. 

Lo !  as  a  careful  housewife  runs  to  catch 
One  of  her  feather'd  creatures  broke  away, 
Sets  down  her  babe  and  makes  all  swift  dispatch 
In  pursuit  of  the  thing  she  would  have  stay, 
Whilst  her  neglected  child  holds  her  in  chase, 
Cries  to  catch  her  whose  busy  care  is  bent 
To  follow  that  which  flies  before  her  face, 
Not  prizing  her  poor  infant's  discontent ; 
So  runn'st  thou  after  that  which  flies  from  thee, 
Whilst  I  thy  babe  chase  thee  afar  behind : 
But  if  thou  catch  thy  hope,  turn  back  to  me, 
And  play  the  mother's  part,  kiss  me,  be  kind ; 
So  will  I  pray  that  thou  mayst  have  thy  '  Will,' 
If  thou  turn  back,  and  my  loud  crying  still. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXLIV. 

Two  loves  I  have  of  comfort  and  despair, 
Which  like  two  spirits  do  suggest  me  still ; 
The  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair, 
The  worser  spirit  a  woman  colour'd  ill. 
To  win  me  soon  to  hell,  my  female  evil 
Tempteth  my  better  angel  from  my  side, 
And  would  corrupt  my  saint  to  be  a  devil, 
Wooing  his  purity  with  her  foul  pride. 
And  whether  that  my  angel  be  turn'd  fiend 
Suspect  I  may,  yet  not  directly  tell ; 
But  being  both  from  me,  both  to  each  friend. 
I  guess  one  angel  in  another's  hell : 

Yet  this  shall  I  ne'er  know,  but  live  in  doubt, 
Till  my  bad  angel  fire  my  good  one  out. 


CXLV. 

Those  lips  that  Love's  own  hand  did  make 
Breath'd  forth  the  sound  that  said  '  I  hate  ' 
To  me  that  languish'd  for  her  sake; 
But  when  she  saw  my  'woeful  state, 
Straight  in  her  heart  did  mercy  come, 
Chiding  that  tongue  that  ever  sweet 
Was  us'd  in  giving  gentle  doom, 
And  taught  it  thus  anew  to  greet. 
'  I  hate  '  she  alter'd  with  an  end, 
That  follow'd  it  as  gentle  day 
Doth  follow  night,  who  like  a  fiend 
From  heaven  to  hell  is  flown  away ; 
1 1  hate '  from  hate  away  she  threw, 
And  sav'd  my  life,  saying  '  not  you/ 


I20  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CXLVI. 

Poor  soul,  the  centre  of  my  sinful  earth, 
Press'd  by  these  rebel  powers  that  thee  array, 
Why  dost  thou  pine  within  and  suffer  dearth, 
Painting  thy  outward  walls  so  costly  gay? 
Why  so  large  cost,  having  so  short  a  lease, 
Dost  thou  upon  thy  fading  mansion  spend  ? 
Shall  worms,  inheritors  of  this  excess, 
Eat  up  thy  charge  ?  is  this  thy  body's  end  ? 
Then,  soul,  live  thou  upon  thy  servant's  loss, 
And  let  that  pine  to  aggravate  thy  store; 
Buy  terms  divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross ; 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  rich  no  more  : 

So  shalt  thou  feed  on  Death,  that  feeds  on  men, 
And  Death  once  dead,  there  's  no  more  dying  then. 


CXLVII. 

My  love  is  as  a  fever,  longing  still 
For  that  which  longer  nurseth  the  disease, 
Feeding  on  that  which  doth  preserve  the  ill, 
The  uncertain  sickly  appetite  to  please. 
My  reason,  the  physician  to  my  love, 
Angry  that  his  prescriptions  are  not  kept, 
Hath  left  me,  and  I  desperate  now  approve 
Desire  is  death,  which  physic  did  except. 
Past  cure  I  am,  now  reason  is  past  care, 
And  frantic-mad  with  evermore  unrest ; 
My  thoughts  and  my  discourse  as  madmen's  are, 
At  random  from  the  truth  vainly  express'd  ; 
For  I  have  sworn  thee  fair  and  thought  thee  bright, 
Who  art  as  black  as  hell,  as  dark  as  night. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I2l 


CXLVIII. 


O  me,  what  eyes  hath  Love  put  in  my  head, 
Which  have  no  correspondence  with  true  sight ! 
Or,  if  they  have,  where  is  my  judgment  fled, 
That  censures  falsely  what  they  see  aright  ? 
If  that  be  fair  whereon  my  false  eyes  dote, 
What  means  the  world  to  say  it  is  not  so? 
If  it  be  not,  then  love  doth  well  denote 
Love's  eye  is  not  so  true  as  all  men's  no. 
How  can  it  ?     O,  how  can  Love's  eye  be  true, 
That  is  so  vex'd  with  watching  and  with  tears? 
No  marvel  then,  though  I  mistake  my  view; 
The  sun  itself  sees  not  till  heaven  clears. 

O  cunning  Love  !  with  tears  thou  keep'st  me  blind, 
Lest  eyes  well-seeing  thy  foul  faults  should  find. 


CXLIX. 

Canst  thou,  O  cruel !  say  I  love  thee  not, 
When  I  against  myself  with  thee  partake? 
Do  I  not  think  on  thee  when  I  forgot 
Am  of  myself,  all  tyrant,  for  thy  sake? 
Who  hateth  thee  that  I  do  call  my  friend  ? 
On  whom  frown'st  thou  that  I  do  fawn  upon  ? 
Nay,  if  thou  lower'st  on  me,  do  I  not  spend 
Revenge  upon  myself  with  present  moan? 
What  merit  do  I  in  myself  respect, 
That  is  so  proud  thy  service  to  despise, 
When  all  my  best  doth  worship  thy  defect, 
Commanded  by  the  motion  of  thine  eyes? 

But,  love,  hate  on,  for  now  I  know  thy  mind; 

Those  that  can  see  thou  lov'st,  and  I  am  blind. 


I22  .       SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CL. 


(y 


O,  from  what  power  hast  thou  this  powerful  might 
With  insufficiency  my  heart  to  sway? 
To  make  me  give  the  lie  to  my  true  sight, 
And  swear  that  brightness  doth  not  grace  the  day  ? 
Whence  hast  thou  this  becoming  of  things  ill, 
That  in  the  very  refuse  of  thy  deeds 
There  is  such  strength  and  warrantise  of  skill 
That,  in  my  mind,  thy  worst  all  best  exceeds  ? 
Who  taught  thee  how  to  make  me  love  thee  more 
The  more  I  hear  and  see  just  cause  of  hate  ? 
O,  though  I  love  what  others  do  abhor, 
With  others  thou  shouldst  not  abhor  my  state; 
If  thy  unworthiness  rais'd  love  in  me, 
More  worthy  I  to  be  belov'd  of  thee. 


CLI. 

Love  is  too  young  to  know  what  conscience  is ; 
Yet  who  knows  not  conscience  is  born  of  love  ? 
Then,  gentle  cheater,  urge  not  my  amiss, 
Lest  guilty  of  my  faults  thy  sweet  self  prove; 
For,  thou  betraying  me,  I  do  betray 
My  nobler  part  to  my  gross  body's  treason ; 
My  soul  doth  tell  my  body  that  he  may 
Triumph  in  love ;  flesh  stays  no  farther  reason, 
But,  rising  at  thy  name,  doth  point  out  thee 
As  his  triumphant  prize.     Proud  of  this  pride, 
He  is  contented  thy  poor  drudge  to  be, 
To  stand  in  thy  affairs,  fall  by  thy  side. 
No  want  of  conscience  hold  it  that  I  call 
Her  Move'  for  whose  dear  love  I  rise  and  fall. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I2-j 


CLII. 

In  loving  thee  thou  know'st  I  am  forsworn, 
But  thou  art  twice  forsworn,  to  me  love  swearing, 
In  act  thy  bed-vow  broke  and  new  faith  torn 
In  vowing  new  hate  after  new  love  bearing. 
But  why  of  two  oaths'  breach  do  I  accuse  thee, 
When  I  break  twenty  ?  I  am  perjur'd  most  \ 
For  all  my  vows  are  oaths  but  to  misuse  thee, 
And  all  my  honest  faith  in  thee  is  lost : 
For  I  have  sworn  deep  oaths  of  thy  deep  kindness, 
Oaths  of  thy  love,  thy  truth,  thy  constancy, 
And,  to  enlighten  thee,  gave  eyes  to  blindness, 
Or  made  them  swear  against  the  thing  they  see ; 
For  I  have  sworn  thee  fair;  more  perjur'd  I, 
To  swear  against  the  truth  so  foul  a  lie! 


CLIIL  (^ 

Cupid  laid'by  his  brand,  and  fell  asleep: 
A  maid  of  Dian's  this  advantage  found, 
And  his  love-kindling  fire  did  quickly  steep 
In  a  cold  valley-fountain  of  that  ground  ; 
Which  borrow'd  from  this  holy  fire  of  Love 
A  dateless  lively  heat,  still  to  endure, 
And  grew  a  seething  bath,  which  yet  men  prove 
Against  strange  maladies  a  sovereign  cure. 
But  at  my  mistress'  eye  Love's  brand  new-fir'd, 
The  boy  for  trial  needs  would  touch  my  breast ; 
I,  sick  withal,  the  help  of  bath  desir'd, 
And  thither  hied,  a  sad  distemper'd  guest, 
But  found  no  cure :  the  bath  for  my  help  lies 
Where  Cupid  got  new  fire — my  mistress*  eyes. 


124  SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


CLIV. 

The  little  Love-god  lying  once  asleep 

Laid  by  his  side  his  heart-inflaming  brand, 

Whilst  many  nymphs  that  vow'd  chaste  life  to  keep 

Came  tripping  by  ;  but  in  her  maiden  hand 

The  fairest  votary  took  up  that  fire 

Which  many  legions  of  true  hearts  had  warm'd, 

And  so  the  general  of  hot  desire 

Was  sleeping  by  a  virgin  hand  disarmed. 

This  brand  she  quenched  in  a  cool  well  by, 

Which  from  Love's  fire  took  heat  perpetual, 

Growing  a  bath  and  healthful  remedy 

For  men  diseas'd;  but  I,  my  mistress'  thrall, 

Came  there  for  cure,  and  this  by  that  I  prove. 

Love's  fire  heats  water,  water  cools  not  love. 


NOTES, 


ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  THE  NOTES. 

Abbott  (or  Gr.),  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (third  edition). 
A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon. 

A.  V.,  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  (1611). 

B.  and  F.,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
B.  J.,  Ben  Jonson. 

Camb.  ed.,  "Cambridge  edition"  of  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Clark  and  Wright. 
Cf.  (confer),  compare. 
Coll.,  Collier  (second  edition;. 
D.,  Dyce  (second  edition). 

Dowden,  Prof.  E.  Dowden's  eds.  of  the  Sonnets  (see  p.  n,  foot-note,  above). 
Gildon,  Clias.  Gildon's  ed.  of  Shakespeare's  Poems  (London,  1710). 
H.,  Hudson  ("  Harvard"  edition). 
Halliwell,  J.  O.  Halliwell  (folio  ed.  of  Shakespeare). 
Id.  (idem],  the  same. 
K.,  Knight  (second  edition). 

Lintott,  the  1709  ed.  of  the  Poems  (see  p.  10  above). 

Massey,  Gerald  Massey's  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  etc.  (London,  1866).    Cf.  p.  21  above. 
Nares,  Glossary,  edited  by  Halliwell  and  Wright  (London,  1859). 
Palgrave,  F.  T.  Palgrave's  ed.  of  Shakespeare's  Songs  and  Sonnets  (London.  1879). 
Pro!.,  Prologue. 
S.,  Shakespeare. 

Schmidt,  A.  Schmidt's  Shakespeare-Lexicon  (Berlin,  1874). 
Sewell,  Geo.  Sewell's  ed-  of  the  Poems  (7th  vol.  of  Pope's  ed.  of  1725). 
Sr.,  Singer. 
St.,  Staunton. 
Theo.,  Theobald. 
W.,  R.  Grant  White. 

Walker,  Wm.  Sidney  Walker's  Critical  Examination  of  the  Text  of  Shakespeare 
(London,  1860). 
Warb.,  Warburton. 

Wb.,  Webster's  Dictionary  (revised  quarto  edition  of  1879). 
Wore.,  Worcester's  Dictionary  (quarto  edition). 

The  abbreviations  of  the  names  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  will  be  readily  understood  ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanns,  3  Hen.  VI.  for  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  tJte  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  ;  V.  and  A .  to  I'enus 
and  Adonis;  L.  C.  to  Lover's.  Complaint;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

When  the  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  play  is  followed  by  a  reference,  to  page, 
Rolfe's  edition  of  the  play  is  meant.  The  numbers  of  the  lines  in  the  references  are 
those  of  the  "  Globe  "  ed. 


N,O  T  E  S. 


THE  DEDICATION. — The  only  begetter.  Boswell  remarks:  "The  be- 
getter is  merely  the  person  who^/j*  or  procures  a  thing.  So  in  Dekker's 
Satiromastix :  '  I  have  some  cousin-germans  at  court  shall  beget  you  the 
reversion  of  the  master  of  the  king's  revels.'  W.  H.  was  probably  one 
of  the  friends  to  whom  Shakespeare's  'sugred  sonnets,'  as  they  are  termed 
by  Meres,  had  been  communicated,  and  who  furnished  the  printer  with 


I2g  NOTES. 

his  copy."  W.  says:  "This  dedication  is  not  written  in  the  common 
phraseology  of  its  period  ;  it  is  throughout  a  piece  of  affectation  and  elab- 
orate quaintness,  in  which  the  then  antiquated  prefix  be-  might  be  expect- 
ed to  occur  ;  beget  being  used  for  get,  as  Wiclif  uses  betook  for  took  in  Mark, 
xv.  i :  '  And  ledden  him  and  betoken  him  to  Pilate.'  "  Cf.  Gr.  438. 

SONNET  I. — As  Boswell  and  Boaden  note,  this  and  the  following  son- 
nets are  only  an  expansion  of  V.  and  A.  169-174  :  "  Upon  the  earth's  in- 
crease why  shouldst  thou  feed,"  etc. 

"  Herr  Krauss  (Shakespeare- Jahrbuch,  1881)  cites,  as  a  parallel  to  the 
arguments  in  favour  of  marriage  in  these  sonnets,  the  versified  dialogue 
between  Geron  and  Histor  at  the  close  of  Sidney's  Arcadia,  lib.  iii." 
(Dowden). 

2.  Rose.  In  the  quarto  the  word  is  printed  in  italics  and  with  a  capi- 
tal. See  on  20.  8  below. 

6.  Self -substantial  fuel.  "Fuel  of  the  substance  of  the  flame  itself" 
(Dowden). 

10.  Gandy.  Gay  and  showy.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  812 :  "Nip  not  the 
gaudy  blossoms  of  your  love,"  etc. 

12.  Mak'st  waste  in  niggarding.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  i.  223  : 

"  Benvolio.  Then  she  hath  sworn  that  she  will  still  live  chaste  ? 
Romeo.  She  hath,  and  in  that  sparing  makes  huge  waste." 

13.  Pity  the  world,  etc.     "  Pity  the  world,  or  else  be  a  glutton,  devour- 
ing the  world's  due,  by  means  of  the  grave  (which  will  else  swallow  your 
beauty — cf.  Sonn.  77.  6)  and  of  yourself,  who  refuse  to  beget  offspring  " 
(Dowden).     Steevens  conjectured  "  be  thy  grave  and  thee  "  =  "  be  at  once 
thyself  and  thy  grave." 

II. — "  In  Sonn.  i  the  Friend  is  '  contracted  to  his  own  bright  eyes  ;' 
such  a  marriage  is  fruitless,  and  at  forty  the  eyes  will  be  'deep-sunken.' 
The  'glutton'  of  i  reappears  here  in  the  phrase  'all-eating  shame;'  the 
'makest  waste'  of  i  reappears  in  the  'thriftless  praise'  of  2.  If  the 
youth  addressed  were  now  to  marry,  at  forty  he  might  have  a  son  of  his 
present  age,  that  is,  about  twenty"  (Dowden).* 

4.  Tatter 'd.  The  quarto  has  "totter'd,"  as  in  26.  1 1  below.  Cf.  K. 
John,  p.  178,  note  on  Tottering.  For  weed  (^garment),  see  M.  N.  D. 
p.  149. 

*  We  reprint  Dowden's  introductory  notes  to  each  sonnet,  but  we  must  call  attention 
here  to  his  own  comments  upon  them  : 

'•  Repeated  perusals  have  convinced  me  that  the  Sonnets  stand  in  the  right  order,  and 
that  sonnet  is  connected  with  sonnet  in  more  instances  than  have  been  observed.  My 
notes  on  each  sonnet  commonly  begin  with  an  attempt  to  point  out  the  little  links  or 
articulations  in  thought  and  word,  which  connect  it  with  its  predecessor  or  the  group  to 
which  it  belongs.  I  frankly  warn  the  reader  that  1  have  pushed  this  kind  of  criticism 
iar,  perhaps  too  far.  I  have  perhaps  in  some  instances  fancied  points  of  connection 
which  have  no  real  existence;  some  I  have  set  down,  which  seem  to  myself  conjectural. 
After  this  warning,  I  ask  the  friendly  reader  not  to  grow  too  soon  impatient :  and  if,  go- 
ing through  the  text  carefully,  he  will  consider  for  himself  the  points  which  I  have  noted, 
I  have  a  hope  that  he  will  in  many  instances  see  reason  to  agree  with  what  I  have 
said." 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNE  TS.  12Q 

8.  Thriftless.     Unprofitable ;  as  in  T.  Ar.  ii.  2.  40 :  "  What  thriftless 
sighs  shall  poor  Olivia  breathe  !" 

ii.  Shall  sum  my  count,  etc.  "  Shall  complete  my  account,  and  serve 
as  the  excuse  of  my  oldness  "  (Dowden).  Hazlitt  reads  "  whole  "  for  old. 

III.—"  A  proof  by  example  of  the  truth  set  forth  in  2.  Here  is  a  par- 
ent finding  in  a  child  the  excuse  for  age  and  wrinkles.  But  here  that 
parent  is  the  mother.  Were  the  father  of  Shakspere's  friend  living,  it 
would  have  been  natural  to  mention  him  :  13.  14  'you  had  a  father'  con- 
firms our  impression  that  he  was  dead. 

"  There  are  two  kinds  of  mirrors — first,  that  of  glass  ;  secondly,  a  child 
who  reflects  his  parent's  beauty"  (Dowden). 

5.  Unear'd.  Unploughed.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  p.  192,  note  on  Ear.  For  the 
figure,  cf.  A.  and  C.  ii.  2.  233 :  "  He  plough'd  her,  and  she  cropp'd." 
Steevens  quotes  M.for  M.  i.  4.  43.  W.  aptly  remarks  that  the  expres- 
sion is  "the  converse  of  the  common  metaphor  'virgin  soil.'" 

7.  Fond.     Foolish  ;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  163. 
For  the  passage  Malone  compares  V.  and  A.  757-761. 

9.  Thy  mother's  glass,  etc.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1758,  where  Lucretius  says  : 

"Poor  broken  glass,  I  often  did  behold 
In  thy  sweet  semblance  my  old  age  new  born." 

II.    Windows  of  thine  age.     Malone  quotes  L.  C.  14:   "Some  beauty 
peep'd  through  lattice  of  sear'd  age." 
13.  Live.     Capell  conjectures  "love." 

IV. — "  In  Sonn.  3  Shakspere  has  viewed  his  friend  as  an  inheritor 
of  beauty  from  his  mother  ;  this  legacy  of  beauty  is  now  regarded  as  the 
bequest  of  nature.  The  ideas  of  unthriftiness  (i)  and  niggardliness  (5) 
are  derived  from  Sonn.  i,  2  ;  the  'audit'  (12)  is  another  form  of  the  'sum 
my  count'  of  2.  ii.  The  new  idea  introduced  in  this  Sonnet  is  that  of 
usury,  which  reappears  in  6.  5,  6"  (Dowden). 

3.  Nature ^s  bequest,  etc.     Dowden  quotes  M.for  M.  i.  I.  36: 

"  Spirits  are  not  finely  touch'd 
But  to  fine  issues,  nor  Nature  never  lends 
The  smallest  scruple  of  her  excellence 
But,  like  a  thrifty  goddess,  she  determines 
Herself  the  glory  of  a  creditor, 
Both  thanks  and  use." 

Steevens  compares  Milton,  Comns,  679 : 

"  Why  should  you  be  so  cruel  to  yourself, 
And  to  those  dainty  limbs  which  Nature  lent 
For  gentle  usage,  and  soft  delicacy? 
But  you  invert  the  covenants  of  her  trust, 
And  harshly  deal,  like  an  ill  borrower, 
With  that  which  you  receiv'd  on  other  terms." 

See  also  Id.  720-727. 

4.  Free.     Liberal,  bountiful.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  100 :  '*  His  heart  and 
hand  both  open  and  both  free,"  etc. 

8.  Live.     Subsist.     "With  all  your  usury  you  have  not  a  livelihood, 


I30  NOTES. 

for,  trafficking  only  with  yourself,  you  put  a  cheat  upon  yourself,  and  win 
nothing  by  such  usury"  (Dowden). 

12.  Audit.     Printed  in  italics  and  with  a  capital  in  the  quarto.     See 
on  i.  2  above.     Acceptable  (note  the  accent)  is  used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

14.  77*'  executor.  Malone  reads  "thy  executor"  (the  conjecture  of 
Capell). 

V. — "  In  Sonn.  $  and  6,  youth  and  age  are  compared  to  the  seasons  of 
the  year ;  in  7,  they  are  compared  to  morning  and  evening,  the  seasons 
of  the  day"  (Dowden). 

1.  Hours.     A  dissyllable.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  p.  151.     Gr.  480. 

2.  Gaze.     Object  gazed  at ;  as  in  Macb.  v.  8.  24:   "  Live  to  be  the  show 
and  gaze  o'  the  time." 

4.  And  that  unfair,  etc.     "And  render  that  which  was  once  beautiful 
no  longer  fair  "  (Malone).     Unfair  is  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  (or  the 
word)  in  S.     CL  fairing  in  127.  6  below. 

6.   Confounds.     Destroys.     Cf.  60.  8,  64.  10,  and  69.  7  below. 

8.  Bareness.     Sewell  (2d  ed.)  has  "  barrenness."     Cf.  97.  4  below. 

9.  Distillation.     Perfumes  distilled  from  flowers.     Malone   compares 
Sonn.  54  and  M.  N.  D.  i.  I.  76 :  "  Earthlier  happy  is  the  rose  distill'd,"  etc. 

II.  Bereft.     Taken  away,  lost. 

14.  Leese.  "  Lose  "  (Sevvell's  reading).  Dowden  notes  that  the  word 
occurs  in  i  Kings,  xviii.  5,  in  the  ed.  of  1611  (lose  in  modern  eds.). 

VI. — "This  sonnet  carries  on  the  thoughts  of  4  and  5 — the  distilling 
of  perfumes  from  the  former,  and  the  interest  paid  on  money  from  the 
latter  "  (Dowden). 

i.  Ragged.     Rugged,  rough.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  160. 

5.  Use.     Interest.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  768 :  "  But  gold  that  's  put  to  use 
more  gold  begets  ;"  and  see  also  134.  10  below. 

6.  Happies.     Makes  happy  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in  S. 

13.  Self-wiWd.     Delius  conjectures '"  self-kill'd." 

VII. — "After  imagery  drawn  from  summer  and  winter,  S.  finds  new 
imagery  in  morning  and  evening"  (Dowden). 

7.  Yet  mortal  looks  adore,  etc.     Malone  quotes  R.  and  J.  i.  I.  125  : 

"Madam,  an  hour  before  the  worshipp'd  sun 
Peer'd  forth  the  golden  window  of  the  east." 

•     IO.  Redeth.     Dowden  quotes  R.  and  J.  ii.  3.  3  : 

"  And  necked  darkness  like  a  drunkard  reels 
From  forth  day's  path.'1 

ii.  Fore.  So  in  the  quarto  ;  "  'fore  "  in  the  modern  eels.  Cf.  Hen.  V. 
p.  155.  Converted =  turned  away  ;  as  in  11.4  below. 

On  the  passage,  Dowden  compares  T.  of  A.  i.  2.  150 :  "  Men  shut  their 
doors  against  a  setting  sun." 

13.   Thyself,  etc.     "  Passing  beyond  your  zenith  "  (Dowden). 

VIII. — i.  Music  to  hear.     Thou,  to  hear  whom  is  music.     Malone 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  1^l 

thought  S.  might  have  written  "Music  to  ear "  =  " Thou  whose  every 
accent  is  music  to  the  ear." 

14.  Wilt  prove  none.  Perhaps,  as  Dowden  suggests,  an  allusion  to  the 
proverbial  expression  that  "one  is  no  number/'  Cf.  136.  8  :  "Among  a 
number  one  is  reckon'd  none."  See  also  R.  and  J.  p.  146,  note  on  32. 
The  meaning  seems  to  be  that  "since  many  make  but  one,  one  will  prove 
also  less  than  itself,  that  is,  will  prove  none." 

IX. — "The  thought  of  married  happiness  in  8 — husband,  child,  and 
mother  united  in  joy — suggests  its  opposite,  the  grief  of  a  weeping  wid- 
ow. 'Thou  single  wilt  prove  none'  ol  8.  14  is  carried  on  in  'consum'st 
thyself  in  single  life  '  of  9.  2  "  (Dowden). 

4.  Makdess.  Without  a  make,  or  mate.  For  make,  cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q. 
iii.  11.2  :  "That  was  as  trew  in  love  as  Turtle  to  her  make  ;"  Id.  iv.  2. 
30  :  "  And  each  not  farre  behinde  him  had  his  make,"  etc.  In  Ben  Jon- 
son's  New  Inn,  the  Host  forms  a  hieroglyphic  to  express  the  proverb 
"A  heavy  purse  makes  a  light  heart,"  which  he  interprets  thus : 

"There  't  is  exprest !  first,  by  a  purse  of  gold, 
A  heavy  purse,  and  then  two  turtles,  makes, 
A  heart  with  a  light  stuck  in  't,  a  light  heart" 

9.  Unthrift.     Prodigal  ;  as  in  13.  13  below.     In  Rich.  II.  ii.  3.  122,  the 
only  other  instance  of  the  noun  in  S.,  it  is  —good-for-nothing. 

10.  His.     Its  ;  referring  to  what. 

12.  The  user.  The  one  having  the  use  of  it,  the  possessor.  Sewell 
reads  "  the  us'rer." 

X. — "  The  '  murtherous  shame  '  of  9.  14  reappears  in  the  '  For  shame  !' 
and  '  murtherous  hate  '  of  10.  In  9  Shakspere  denies  that  his  friend  loves 
any  one ;  he  carries  on  the  thought  in  the  opening  of  10,  and  this  leads 
up  to  his  friend's  love  of  Shakspere,  which  is  first  mentioned  in  this  son- 
net" (Dowden). 

7.  Ruinate,  etc.  Cf.  A',  of  L.  944:  "To  ruinate  proud  buildings,"  etc. 
The  meaning  is,  "seeking  to  bring  to  ruin  that  house  (that  is,  family) 
which  it  ought  to  be  your  chief  care  to  repair."  Dowden  adds:  "these 
lines  confirm  the  conjecture  that  the  father  of  Shakspere's  friend  was 
dead."  Cf.  13.  9-14  below.  For  the  figure,  cf.  also  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  I.  83 
and  T.  G.  of  V.  v.  4.  9. 

9.    Thy  thought.     Thy  purpose  of  not  marrying. 

XL — "The  first  five  lines  enlarge  on  the  thought  (10.  14)  of  beauty 
living  '  in  thine  ;'  showing  how  the  beauty  of  a  child  may  be  called  thine  ' 
(Dowden). 

2.  Departest.  From  may  be  understood,  the  preposition  (Gr.  394)  be- 
ing often  omitted  in  relative  sentences  when  it  has  been  previously  ex- 
pressed ;  or  the  verb  may  be  transitive,  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  91 :  "De- 
part the  chamber,"  etc. 

4.  Convertest.  Dost  turn  away.  Cf.  7.  II  above  and  14.  12  below. 
Note  the  rhyme  with  departest,  and  see  also  14.  12,  17.  2,  49.  10,  and  72.  6 
below. 


I32 


NOTES. 


7.  The  times.     "  The  generations  of  men  "  (Dowden). 

9.  For  store.  "To  be  preserved  for  use"  (Malone).  Schmidt  makes 
store="  increase  of  men,  fertility,  population." 

II.  Look,  whom  she  best^  endowed,  etc.  To  whom  she  gave  much  she 
gave  more.  Cf.  Matt.  xiii.  12:  "For  whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be 
given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundantly."  Sewell  (ist  ed.),  Malone, 
St.,  Delius,  and  H.  read  "gave  thee  more;"  making  whom  she  best  en- 
dow\i— "however  liberal  she  may  have  been  to  others"  (Malone). 

14.  Not  let  that  copy  die.     Malone  compares  7\  N.  i.  5.  261  : 

"Lady,  you  are  the  cruell'st  she  alive, 
If  you  will  lead  these  graces  to  the  grave 
And  leave  the  world  no  copy." 

XII. — "This  sonnet  seems  to  be  a  gathering  into  one  of  5,  6,  and  7. 
Lines  i,  2,  like  So/in.  7,  speak  of  the  decay  and  loss  of  the  brightness  and 
beauty  of  the  day  ;  lines  3-8,  like  Sonn.  5  and  6,  of  the  loss  of  the  sweets 
and  beauties  of  \\\Q  year"  (Dowden). 

2.  Brave.    Beautiful.     Cf.  15.  8  below.     See  also  Ham.  ii.  2.  312  :   "  this 
brave  o'erhanging  firmament,"  etc. 

3.  Violet  past  prime.     Dowden  compares  Ham.  i.  3.  7  :  "A  violet  in 
the  youth  of  primy  nature." 

4.  Sable  curls  all  silver1  d.     The  quarto  has  "or  siluer'd ;"  corrected 
by  Malone.     The  Camb.  ed.  notes  an  anonymous  conjecture,  "o'er-sil- 
vered  with  white."     Steevens  compares  Ham.  i.  2. 242  : 

"  It  was,  as  I  have  seen  it  in  his  life, 

A  sable  silver'd;" 

referring  to  the  Ghost's  beard. 

8.  Beard.     Capell  ("  C."  in  the  Var.  of  1821)  quotes  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  95  : 

"the  green  corn 
Hath  rotted  ere  his  youth  attain'd  a  beard." 

9.  Question  make.     Consider.     Elsewhere  it  is  =  doubt ;  as  in  M.  of  V. 
i.  i.  156,  184,  L.  C.  321,  etc. 

14.  Save  breed,  etc.  "  Except  children,  whose  youth  may  set  the  scythe 
of  Time  at  defiance,  and  render  thy  own  death  less  painful "  (Malone). 

XIII. — "  Shakspere  imagines  his  friend  in  12.  14,  borne  away  by  Time. 
It  is  only  while  he  lives  here  that  he  is  his  own  (i,  2).  Note  yoit  and 
your  instead  of  thy,  tliine,  and  the  address  my  love  for  the  first  time  " 
(Dowden).  Cf.  p.  27  above. 

I.    Yourself.     That  is,  master  of  yourself;  as  the  context  shows. 

5.  Beauty  which  you  hold  in  lease.    Malone  compares  Daniel's  Delia,  47  : 

"in  beauty's  lease  expirM  appears 
The  date  of  age,  the  calends  of  our  death." 

6.  Determination.     End ;  the  legal  sense.     On  the  passage,  cf.  V.  and 
A.  171  fol. 

10.  Husbandry.     Economy,  thrift.     Cf.  Macb.  p.  183. 
13.   Unthrifts.     See  on  9.  9  above. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  l^ 

14.  You  had  a  father.  Dowden  compares  A.  W.  i.  I.  19:  "This  young 
gentlewoman  had  a  father — O,  that  '  had  !'  how  sad  a  passage  't  is  1"  Sec 
on  10.  7  above ;  but  cf.  p.  185  below. 

XIV.— "In  13  S.  predicts  stormy  winter  and  the  cold  of  death ;  he 
now  explains  what  his  astrology  is,  and  at  the  close  of  the  sonnet  repeats 
his  melancholy  prediction  "  (Dowden). 

I,  2.  Dowden  quotes  Sidney,  Arcadia,  book  iii. :  "O  sweet  Philoclea, 
.  .  .  thy  heavenly  face  is  my  astronomy ;"  and  Astrophel  and  Stella  (ed. 
1591),  Sonn.  26: 

"Though  dusty  wits  dare  scorn  astrology 

*  *  *  *  * 

[I]  oft  forejudge  my  after-following  race 
By  only  those  two  stars  in  Stella's  face." 

So  Daniel,  Delia,  30  (on  Delia's  eyes)  : 

"Stars  are  they  sure,  whose  motions  rule  desires; 
And  calm  and  tempest  follow  their  aspects." 

£>.  Pointing.  Pointing  out,  appointing.  See  T.  of  S.  p.  148.  Cf.  Bacon, 
Essay  45  (ed.  of  1625):  "  But  this  to  be,  if  you  doe  not  point,  any  of  the 
lower  Roomes,  for  a  Dining  Place  of  Servants  ;"  and  Essay  58 :  *'  Point- 
ing Daves  for  Pitched  Fields,"  etc.  ///>=its  ;  as  in  9.  10  above. 

8.  Oft  predict.     Frequent  prediction  or  prognostication.     Sewell  reads 
"ought  predict"  (  =  anything  predicted). 

9.  From  thitie  eyes,  etc.      Steevens  quotes  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  350  :  "  From 
women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive,"  etc. 

11-14.  Dowden  puts  Truth  .  .  .  convert  and  Thy  end .  .  .  date  in  quo- 
tation marks,  explaining  read  such  art  as  ="  gather  by  reading  such 
truths  of  science  as  the  following." 

12.  Store.  See  on  11.  9  above.  Malone  paraphrases  thus  :  "  If  thou 
wouldst  change  thy  single  state,  and  beget  a  numerous  progeny." 

Convert  here  rhymes  with  art,  as  in  Daniel's  Delia,  1 1,  with  heart  (Dow- 
den). See  on  n.  4  above,  and  cf.  A\  of  L.  592. 

XV. — "  Introduces  Verse  as  an  antagonist  of  Time.  The  stars  in  14 
determining  weather,  plagues,  dearths,  and  fortune  of  princes  reappear 
in  15.  4,  commenting  in  secret  influence  on  the  shows  of  this  world" 
(Dowden).  » 

3.  Stage.  Malone  reads  "state ;"  but,  as  Dowden  notes,  the  theatrical 
words  presenteth  (see  M.  N.  D.  p.  156)  and  shows  confirm  the  old  text. 

9.  Conceit.  Conception,  imagination;  as  in  108.  13  below.  Cf.  Ham. 
p.  238. 

n.  Debateth.     Combats,  contends.     Malone  quotes  A.  W.  i.  2.  75  : 

"nature  and  sickness 
Debate  it  at  their  leisure." 

Schmidt  may  be  right  in  putting  the  present  passage  under  Mafc=dis- 
cuss.     Dowden  hesitates  between  the  two  explanations. 

23 


I34  NOTES. 

XVI. — "The  gardening  image  engraft  in  15.  14  suggests  the  thought 
of  '  maiden  gardens  '  and  *  living  flowers  '  of  this  sonnet  "  (Dowden). 

6.  Maiden  gardens  yet  unset.     Malone  compares  L.  C.  171  :  "Heard 
where  his  plants  in  others'  orchards  grew." 

7.  Bear  your  living  flowers.     Lintott,  Gildon,  Malone,  H.,  and  others 
change  your  to  "you  ;"  but,  as  Dowden  says,  " your  living  floivers  stands 
over  against  your  painted  counterfeit." 

8.  Much  liker,  etc.     Much  more  like  you  than  your  painted  portrait 
is.     For  counterfeit,  cf.  M.  of  V.  p.  150. 

9.  Lines  of  life.     Probably  ="  living  pictures,  that  is,  children"  (an 
anonymous  explanation  in  the  Var.  of  1821).     Dowden  remarks  :  "The 
unusual  expression  is  selected  because  it  suits  the  imagery  of  the  sonnet, 
lines  applying  to  (  I )  lineage,  (2)  delineation  with  a  pencil,  a  portrait, 
(3)  lines  of  verse,  as  in  18.  12.     Lines  of  life  are  living  lines,  living  poems 
and  pictures,  children."     H.  reads  "line  of  life,"  which  he  makes  = 
"living  line,  or  lineage." 

10.  This  timers  pencil.     We  are  inclined  to  think  this  is  =any  painter 
of  the  time.     Massey  supposes  that  some  particular  artist  is  referred  to, 
perhaps   Mirevelt,  who    painted  the   Earl   of  Southampton's   portrait. 
The  quarto  reads  "this  (Times  pensel  or  my  pupill  pen),"  etc.,  and  the 
modern  eds.  generally  read  "this,  Time's  pencil,"  etc.     Dowden  asks: 
"Are  we  to  understand  the  line  as  meaning  '  Which  this  pencil  of  Time 
or  this  my  pupil  pen ;'  and  is  Time  here  conceived  as  a  limner  who  has 
painted  the  youth  so  fair,  but  whose  work  cannot  last  for  future  genera- 
tions?    In  19  '  Devouring  Time'  is  transformed  into  a  scribe;  may  not 
'  tyrant  Time '  be  transformed  here  into  a  painter  ?     In  20  it  is  Nature 
who  paints  the  face  of  the  beautiful  youth.     This  masterpiece  of  twenty 
years  can  endure  neither  as  painted  by  Time's  pencil,  nor  as  represented 
by  Shakspere's  unskilful,  pupil  pen.    Is  \.\\t  painted  counterfeit  Shakspere's 
portrayal  in  his  verse  ?     Cf.  53.  5." 

11.  Fair.     Beauty.     Cf.  18.  7,  68.  3,  and  83.  2  below. 

XVII. — "  In  16  Shakspere  has  said  that  his  '  pupil  pen  '  cannot  make 
his  friend  live  to  future  ages.  He  now  carries  on  this  thought ;  his  verse, 
although  not  showing  half  his  friend's  excellencies,  will  not  be  believed 
in  times  to  come  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Deserts.  For  the  rhyme  with/flr/j,  see  on  14. 12  above.  Cf.  72.  6  below. 

12.  Stretched  metre.     "  Overstrained  poetry  "  (Dowden).     Keats  took 
this  line  for  the  motto  of  his  Endymion. 

13.  14.  "  If  a  child  were  alive  his  beauty  would  verify  the  descriptions 
in  Shakspere's  verse,  and  so  the  friend  would  possess  a  twofold  life,  in 
his  child  and  in  his  poet's  rhyme  "  (Dowden). 

XVIII. — "  Shakspere  takes  heart,  expects  immortality  for  his  verse, 
and  so  immortality  for  his  friend  as  surviving  in  it "  (Dowden). 

3.  Rough  winds  do  shake,  etc.     Malone  quotes  Cymb.  i.  3.  36  : 

"And,  like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 
Shakes  all  our  buds  from  growing;" 

and  T.  of  S.  v.  2.  140 :  "  as  whirlwinds  shake  fair  buds." 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I35 

5.  Eye  of  heaven.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  iii.  2. 37  :  "  the  searching  eye  of  heaven ;" 
and  R.  of  L.  356  :  "  The  eye  of  heaven  is  out." 

7.  Fair.     Beauty.     See  on  16.  11  above.     So  in  10  below,  fair  thou 
owest=bea.uty  thou  possessest.     For  owe,  cf.  70.  14  below. 

14.  So  long  lives  this.  This  anticipation  of  immortality  for  their  works 
was  a  common  conceit  with  the  poets  of  the  time.  Cf.  Spenser,  Amoretti, 
-!•>  69>  95  ;  Dray  ton,  Idea,  6,  44 ;  Daniel,  Delia,  39,  etc. 

XIX. — "  Shakspere,  confident  of  the  immortality  of  his  friend  in  verse, 
defies  Time  "  (Dowden). 

I.  Devouring.     Walker  conjectures  "  Destroying." 

4.  Phoenix.     For  allusions  to  the  phoenix  in  S.,  see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  189, 
note  on  17. 

5.  Fleets.     The  quarto  has  "  fleet'st ;"  but  the  analogy  of  8.  7  ("con- 
founds ")  favours  Dyce's  emendation,  which  is  also  adopted  by  Dowden 
and  H. 

10.  Antique.     Accented  on  the  first  syllable,  as  regularly  in  S. 

XX. — "  His  friend  is  '  beauty's  pattern '  (19.  12) ;  as  such  he  owns  the 
attributes  of  male  and  female  beauty  "  (Dowden). 
Palgrave  omits  this  sonnet,  with  151,  153,  and  154. 

1.  With  Nature"*  s  ozun  hand  painted.     Not  artificially  coloured — a  fash- 
ion which  S.  detested,  as  he  did  false  hair.     See  L.  L.  L.  p.  151,  note  on 
254. 

2.  Master-mistress  of  my  passion.     "  Who  sways  my  love  with  united 
charms  of  man  and  woman"  (Dowden). 

5.  Less  false  in  rolling.     Dowden  compares  Spenser,  F.  Q.  iii.  i.  41  : 

"  Her  wanton  eyes  (ill  signes  of  womanhed) 
Did  roll  too  lightly." 

8.  Hues.     Printed  in  the  quarto  in  italics  and  with  a  capital.     This  led 
Tyrwhitt  to  surmise  that  "  Mr.  W.  H."  might  be  Mr.  William  Hews,  or 
Hughes.     But  the  following  words  are  all  printed  in  the  same  manner : 
Rose,  I.  2  ;  Audit,  4.  12  ;  Statues,  55.  5  ;  Intrim,  56.  9  ;  Alien,  78.  3  ;  Sat- 
ire, 100.  II  ;  Autnmne,  104.  5;  Abisme,  112.9;  Alcumie,  114.4;  Syren, 
119.  I  ;  Hereticke,  124.  9  ;  Informer,  125.  13 ;  Audite,  126.  II ;  and  Quie- 
tus, 126.  12.     The  word  hue  was  used  by  Elizabethan  writers  not  only  in 
the  sense  of  complexion,  but  also  in  that  of  shape,  form.     In  Spenser,  F. 
Q.  v.  9.  17,  Talus  tries  to  seize  Malengin,  who  transforms  himself  into  a 
fox,  a  bush,  a  bird,  a  stone,  and  then  a  hedgehog : 

"Then  gan  it  [the  hedgehog]  run  away  incontinent, 
Being  returned  to  his  former  hew." 

The  meaning  here  may  then  be  "A  man  in  form  and  appearance, hav- 
ing the  mastery  over  all  forms  in  that  of  his,  which  steals,  etc."  (Dow- 
den). 

1 1.  Defeated.     Disappointed,  defrauded.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iv.  I.  161 : 

"They  would  have  stolen  away;  they  would,  Demetrius, 
Thereby  to  have  defeated  you  and  me, 
You  of  your  wife,  and  me  of  my  consent." 


I36  NOTES. 

13.  Prick' it.  Marked.  See  J.  C.  p.  160 ;  and  for  the  equivoque  cf. 
2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  122. 

XXL— "The  first  line  of  20  suggests  this  sonnet.  The  face  of  Shak- 
spere's  friend  is  painted  by  Nature  alone,  and  so  too  there  is  no  false 
painting,  no  poetical  hyperbole,  in  the  description.  As  containing  ex- 
amples of  such  extravagant  comparisons,  amorous  fancies,  far-fetchec 
conceits  of  sonnet- writers  as  S.  here  speaks  of,  Mr.  Main  (Treasury  of 
English  Sonnets,  p.  283)  cites  Spenser's  Amoretti,  9  and  64;  Daniel's 
Delia,  19;  Barnes's  Parthenophil  and  Parthenophe,  Sonn.  48.  Compare 
also  Griffin's  Fidessa,  Sonn.  39;  and  Constable's  Diana  (1594),  the  6tl 
Decade,  Sonn.  I  "  (Dowden).  Sonn.  130  is  in  the  same  vein  as  this. 

I.  So  is  it  not,  etc.  "  I  am  not  like  that  poet  who  exaggerates  in  praise 
of  a  painted  beauty,  coupling  her  with  all  other  beauty  in  earth  or  heav 
en"  (Palgrave). 

5.  Couplement.  Union,  combination.  The  quarto  has  "  cooplement.' 
Gildon  reads  "complement,"  and  Sewell  (2d  ed.)  "compliment."  Foi 
compare  as  a  noun,  cf.  35.  6  and  130.  14  below. 

8.  Rondure.     Circle.     Cf.  rotindnre  in  K.  John,  ii.  i.  259. 

12.  Gold  candles.    Malone  compares  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  220  :  "  these  blessec 
candles  of  the  night ;"  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  9 :  "  Night's  candles  are  burn 
out ;"  and  Macb.  ii.  1.5: 

"There's  husbandry  in  heaven; 
Their  candles  are  all  out." 

13.  That  like  of  hearsay  well.     Apparently  referring  to  the  common 
place  style  of  which  he  has  been  speaking.     Schmidt  makes  it  ="tha 
fall  in  love  with  what  has  been  praised  by  others ;"  and  Dowden  "  tha 
like  to  be  buzzed  about  by  talk."     For  like  0/~=like,  see  L.  L.  L.  p.  130 
Cf.  Gr.  177. 

14.  I  will  not  praise,  etc.     Steevens  quotes  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  239 : 

"Fie,  painted  rhetoric!     O,  she  needs  it  not; 
To  things  of  sale  a  seller's  praise  belongs." 

Cf.  also  102.  3  below. 

XXII. — "  The  praise  of  his  friend's  beauty  suggests  by  contrast  Shak 
spere's  own  face  marred  by  time.  He  comforts  himself  by  claiming  hi< 
friend's  beauty  as  his  own.  Lines  11-14  give  the  first  mnt  of  possible 
wrong  committed  by  the  youth  against  friendship  "  (Dowden). 

4.  Expiate.  Bring  to  an  end.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  3.  23  :  "  Make  haste 
the  hour  of  death  is  expiate  ;"  and  see  the  note  in  our  ed.  p.  213.  Here 
as  there,  Steevens  conjectures  "expirate,"  which  W.  and  H.  adopt 
Surely  there  is  no  need  of  coining  a  word  to  replace  one  which  S.  twice 
uses  and  which  can  be  plausibly  explained.  Malone  quotes  Chapman'? 
Byron'' s  Conspiracie,  in  which  an  old  courtier  speaks  of  himself  as  "  A 
poor  and  expiate  humour  of  the  court." 

XXIII. — "  The  sincerity  and  silent  love  of  his  verses  ;  returning  to  the 
thought  of  21  "  (Dowden). 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  !37 

1.  As  an  imperfect  actor,  etc.     Mai  one  compares  Cor.  v.  3.  40 : 

"  Like  a  dull  actor  now, 
I  have  forgot  my  part,  and  I  am  out, 
Even  to  a  full  disgrace." 

S.  uses  imperfect  only  here  ;  but  we  find  unperfectness  in  Oth.  ii.  3.  298. 

2.  Besides.     For  the  prepositional  use,  cf.  T.  N.  iv.  2.  92  :  "  Alas,  sir, 
how  fell  you  besides  your  five  wits  ?"     See  our  ed.  p.  158,  or  Gr.  34. 

5.  For  fear  of  trust.     Fearing  to  trust  myself.     Schmidt  makes  it  = 
"  doubting  of  being  trusted  ;"  but  the  context  clearly  confirms  the  expla- 
nation we  have  given.     Dowden  calls  attention  to  the  construction  of  the 
first  eight  lines,  5,  6  referring  to  I,  2,  and  7,  8  to  3,  4. 

6.  Ceremony.     H.  says  that  the  word  "is  here  used  as  a  trisyllable,  as 
if  spelt  ceremony  ;"  but  how  he  would  scan  the  verse  we  cannot  imagine, 
The  word  is  clearly  a  quadrisyllable,  as  almost  always  in  S. 

9.  Books.  Sewell  reads  "  looks  ;"  but,  as  Malone  notes,  the  old  read- 
ing is  supported  by  13  below.  The  books,  as  Dowden  remarks,  are  prob- 
ably the  manuscript  books  in  which  the  poet  writes  his  sonnets. 

12.  More  than  that  tongue,  etc.  "More  than  that  tongue  (the  tongue 
of  another  than  S.)  which  hath  more  fully  expressed  more  ardours  of 
love,  or  more  of  your  perfections"  (Dowden). 

XXIV. — "  Suggested  by  the  thought  (22.  6)  of  Shakspere's  heart  being 
lodged  in  his  friend's  breast,  and  by  the  conceit  of  23.  14 ;  there  eyes  are 
able  to  hear  through  love's  fine  wit ;  here  eyes  do  other  singular  things, 
play  the  painter  "  (Dowden). 

1.  Stell\L 
sfrelsy} : 

Here  the  quarto  ,  ... 

2.  7 able.     The  tablet  or  surface  on  which  a  picture  is  painted.     Cf.  A. 
W.\.  i.  106  and  K.  John,  ii.  i.  503  (see  our  ed.  p.  150). 

4.  Perspective.  The  word  in  S.  means  either  a  kind  of  picture  which 
was  so  painted  as  to  be  distinct  only  when  viewed  obliquely,  or  a  kind  of 
glass  employed  to  produce  optical  illusions.  See  the  long  note  in  Rich, 
II.  p.  1 80.  Here  the  meaning  seems  to  be  that  the  poet's  eye  (the painter} 
is  that  through  which  the  person  addressed  must  look  to  see  his  image,  or 
picture,  hanging  in  the  bosom's  shop,  or  heart,  within.  For  the  accent  of 
perspective,  see  Gr.  492. 

Dowden  remarks:  "The  strange  conceits  in  this  sonnet  are  paral- 
leled in  Constable's  Diana  (1594),  Sonn.  5  (p.  4,  ed.  Hazlitt): 

1  Thine  eye,  the  glasse  where  I  behold  my  heart, 

Mine  eye,  the  window  through  the  which  thine  eye 
May  see  my  heart,  and  there  thyselfe  espy 
In  bloody  colours  how  thou  painted  art.' 

Compare  also  Watson's  Teares  of  Fauci e  (1593).  Sonn-  45»  4^  (ed.  Arbcr, 
p.  201): 

'  My  Mistres  seeing  her  faire  counterfet 
So  sweetelie  framed  in  ny  bleeding^  brest 

But  it  so  fast  was  fixed  to  my  heart,'"  etc. 


138  NOTES. 

II.  Where-through.  Cf.  where-a gainst  in  Cor.  iv.  5.  113,  whereout  in  7*. 
0;/</  C.  iv.  5.  245,  where-until  in  Z.  Z.  Z.  v.  2.  493,  etc. 

XXV. — "  In  this  sonnet  S.  makes  his  first  complaint  against  Fortune, 
against  his  low  condition.  He  is  about  to  undertake  a  journey  on  some 
needful  business  of  his  own  (26,  27),  and  rejoices  to  think  that  at  least  in 
one  place  he  has  a  fixed  abode,  in  his  friend's  heart"  (Dowden). 

Prof.  Hales  (Cornhill  Mag.  Jan.  1877)  suggests  that  the  journeys  spok- 
en of  in  the  Sonnets  may  have  been  from  London  to  Stratford. 

5.  Great  princes'  favourites,  etc.     Cf.  MucJi  Ado,  iii.  i.  8  : 

"Where  honeysuckles,  riperfd  by  the  sun, 
Forbid  the  sun  to  enter,  like  favourites 
Made  proud  by  princes,"  etc. 

Hales  thinks  that  Essex  or  Raleigh  may  have  furnished  the  suggestion 
of  the  simile. 

6~  The  marigold.  The  "garden  marigold"  {Calendula  officinalis}.  Cf. 
the  long  note  in  IV.  T.  p.  191  ;  and  see  also  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  p.  155, 
note  on  10. 

9.  For  fight.     The  quarto  reads  "for  worth  ;"  corrected  by  Malone  at 
the  suggestion  of  Theo.,  who  also  proposed  forth  for  the  rhyming  word 
in  II  if  worth  was  retained.     W.  adopts  the  latter  reading.     Capell  pro- 
posed "for  might ;"  and  Steevens  suggested  this  delectable  emendation  : 

"The  painful  warrior  for  worth  famoused, 
After  a  thousand  victories  once  foil'd, 
Is  from  the  book  of  honour  quite  razed,"  etc. 

XXVI. — "In  25  S.  is  in  disfavour  with  his  stars,  and  unwillingly — as  I 
suppose — about  to  undertake  some  needful  journey.  He  now  sends  this 
written  embassage  to  his  friend  (perhaps  it  is  the  Envoy  to  the  preceding 
group  of  sonnets),  and  dares  to  anticipate  a  time  when  the  '  star  that 
guides  his  moving?  now  unfavourable,  may  point  on  him  graciously  with 
fair  aspect"  (Dowden). 

Drake  writes  (Shakspeare  and  His  Times,  vol.  ii.  p.  63) :  "  Perhaps  one 
of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  this  position  [that  the  Sonnets  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  Earl  of  Southampton]  is*  the  hitherto  unnoticed  fact  that 
the  language  of  the  Dedication  to  the  Rape  of  Lucrece,  and  that  of  part  of 
the  twenty-sixth  sonnet  are  almost  precisely  the  same.  The  Dedication 
runs  thus  :  *  The  love  I  dedicate  to  your  Lordship  is  without  end.  .  .  . 
The  warrant  I  have  of  your  honourable  disposition,  not  the  worth  of 
my  untutored  lines,  makes  it  assured  of  acceptance.  What  I  have  is 
yours,  what  I  have  to  do  is  yours ;  being  part  of  all  I  have  devoted 
yours.  Were  my  worth  greater,  my  duty  would  show  greater.'  "  Capell 
had  previously  noted  the  parallel. 

2.  My  duty  strongly  knit.     Steevens  quotes  Macb.  iii.  1.15. 

8.  In  thy  soul's  thought,  etc.  That  is,  "  I  hope  some  happy  idea  of 
yours  will  convey  my  duty,  even  naked  as  it  is,  into  your  soul's  thought " 
(Dowden).  For  bestow  (  —  stow,  deposit),  see  C.  of  E.  p.  114.  Sewell 
has  "  my  "  for  thy. 

10.  Aspect.    Accented  on  the  last  syllable,  as  regularly  in  S. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,39 

11.  Tatter W.     The  quarto  has  "tottered."     See  on  2.4  above. 

12.  Respect.     Regard,  consideration.    The  quarto  has  *'  their  "  for  thy 
as  in  27.  10  below. 

XXVII. — "  Written  on  a  journey,  which  removes  S.  farther  and  farther 
from  his  friend  "  (Dowden). 

3.  Head.  Dowden  omits  the  comma  after  this  word,  thinking  that  the 
construction  may  be  "  a  journey  in  my  head  begins  to  work  my  mind." 

6.  Intend.  Here  Schmidt  makes  the  word  ="  bend,  direct ;"  as  in 
M.  W.  ii.  I.  188,  I  Hen.  IV.  iv.  i.  92,  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  201,  etc. 

9.  Imaginary.  Imaginative.  Cf.  K.  John,  iv.  2.  265  :  "  foul  imaginary 
eyes  of  blood  "  (that  is,  the  sanguinary  eyes  of  my  imagination),  etc. 

1 1.  Like  a  jewel,  etc.     Malone  quotes  R.  and  J.  i.  5.  47  : 

"  It  seems  she  hangs  upon  the  cheek  of  night 
Like  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiope's  ear.1* 

13.  By  day  my  limbs,  etc.     By  day  my  limbs  find  no  quiet  for  myself, 
that  is,  on  account  of  my  travel ;  by  night  my  mind  finds  no  quiet  for 
thee,  that  is,  thinking  of  thee.     For  the  interlaced  construction,  cf.  IV.  T, 
iii.  2.  164 : 

"though  I  with  death  and  with 
Reward  did  threaten  and  encourage  him;" 

and  see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  161.     Cf.  also  75.  ii,  12  below. 

XXVIII. — "A  continuation  of  Sonn.  27"  (Dowden). 
5.  Either 's.     The  quarto  has  "ethers,"  the  ed. of  1640  "others." 
9.  To  please  him,  etc.      Most  eds.  put  a  comma  after  him.     On  the 
whole,  we  prefer  to  omit  it,  as  the  Camb.  ed.  does. 

11.  Swart-complexion 'd.  First  hyphened  by  Gildon.  For  swart  (= dark, 
black),  cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  104,  K.  John,  iii.  i.  46,  etc. 

12.  Twire.     Peep,  twinkle.     Boswell  quotes  B.  J.,  Sad  Shepherd,  ii.  I  : 
"Which  maids  will  twire  at, 'tween  their  fingers  thus."     Nares  adds  B. 
and  F.,  Woman  Pleased,  iv.  i  :   "  I  saw  the  wench  that  twir'd  and  twin- 
kled at  thee;"  and  Marston,  Antonio  and  Mellida,  act  iv. :  "I  saw  a 
thing  stir  under  a  hedge,  and  I  peeped,  and  I  spied  a  thing,  and  I  peered 
and  I  tweered  underneath."     Gildon  reads  "tweer  out."     Malone  con- 
jectures "twirl  not,"  Steevens  "twink  not,"  and  Massey  "tire  not." 
For  gild'st  the  quarto  has  "  guil'st ;"  corrected  by  Sewell. 

14.  Strength.     The  quarto  has  "  length  ;"  corrected  by  D.  (the  conject- 
ure of  Capell  and  Coll.).     Dowden,  who  retains  the  old  text  (though 
with  some  hesitation),  explains  it  thus  :  "  Each  day's  journey  draws  out 
my  sorrows  to  a  greater  length ;  but  this  process  of  drawing-out  does 
not  weaken  my  sorrows,  for  my  night-thoughts  come  to  make  my  sor- 
rows as  strong  as  before,  nay  stronger."     Capell  suggested  to  Malone 
"  draw  my  sorrows  stronger  .  .  .  length  seem  longer." 

XXIX.— "These  are  the  night-thoughts  referred  to  in  the  last  line  of 
28 ;  hence  a  special  appropriateness  in  the  image  of  the  lark  rising  at 
break  of  day  "  (Dowden). 


I4o  NOTES. 

8.  With  what  I  most  enjoy  contented  least.  "  The  preceding  line  makes 
it  not  improbable  that  S.  is  here  speaking  of  his  own  poems  "  (Dowden). 

12.  Sings  hymns  at  heaverfs  gate.  Malone  quotes  Cymb.  ii.  3.  21  : 
"  Hark,  hark  !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings ;"  and  Reed  adds  Lyly, 
Campaspe,  v.  I  (referring  to  the  lark)  : 

"  How  at  heaven's  gate  she  claps  her  wings, 
The  morn  not  waking  till  she  sings." 

Milton  may  have  remembered  S.  when  he  wrote  (P.  L.  v.  198)  : 

"ye  birds, 
That  singing  up  to  heaven-gate  ascend,"  etc. 

XXX. — "Sonnet  29  was  occupied  with  thoughts  of  present  wants  and 
troubles;  30  tells  of  thoughts  of  past  griefs  and  losses"  (Dowden). 

I.  Sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought.     Malone  quotes  Oth.  iii.  3.  138  : 

"who  has  a  breast  so  pure 
But  some  uncleanly  apprehensions 
Keep  leets  and  law-days  and  in  session  sit 
With  meditations  lawful?" 

6.  Dateless.  Endless;  the  only  sense  in  S.  Cf.  153.  6  below;  and 
see  also  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  151  and  R.  and  J.  v.  3.  115. 

8.  Moan  the  expense.  Lament  the  loss.  Dowden  thinks  it  means  "pay 
my  account  of  moans  for,"  being  explained  by  what  follows  ("tell  o'er," 
etc.) ;  but  we  cannot  agree  with  him.  For  expense,  cf.  94.  6  and  129.  i 
below. 

10.  Tell.     Count;  as  in  138.  12  below.     Cf.  Temp.  p.  123. 

XXXI. — "  Continues  the  subject  of  30 — Shakspere's  friend  compen- 
sates all  losses  in  the  past "  (Dowden). 

5.  Obsequious.     Funereal.     See  Ham.  p.  180. 

6.  Dear  religious  love.     "  In  A  Lover's  Complaint,  the  beautiful  youth 
pleads  to  his  love  that  all  earlier  hearts  which  had  paid  homage  to  him 
now  yield  themselves  through  him  to  her  service  (a  thought  similar  to 
that  of  this  sonnet) ;  one  of  these  fair  admirers  was  a  nun,  a  sister  sanc- 
tified, but  (250):   'Religious  love  put  out  Religion's  eye'"   (Dowden). 
Walker  would  read  "dear-religious,"  which  he  explains  as  "making  a 
religion  of  its  affections." 

8.  Thee.     The  quarto  has  "  there  ;"  corrected  by  Gildon. 

II.  Parts  of  me.     Shares  in  me,  claims  upon  me. 

XXXII. — "From  the  thought  of  dead  friends  of  whom  he  is  the  sur- 
vivor, S.  passes  to  the  thought  of  his  own  death,  and  his  friend  as  the 
survivor.  This  sonnet  reads  like  an  Envoy"  (Dowden). 

4.  Lover.     For  the  masculine  use,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  153. 

5,  6.  Dowden  asks  :  "  May  we  infer  from  these  lines  (and  10)  that  S. 
had  a  sense  of  the  wonderful  progress  of  poetry  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth?" 

7.  Reserve.     Preserve  ;  as  in  Per.  iv.  I.  40 : 

"reserve 
That  excellent  complexion,"  etc. 


SHAKESPEAR&S  SONNETS.  ,4, 

XXXIII.— "A  new  group  seems  to  begin  with  this  sonnet  It  intro- 
duces the  wrongs  done  to  S.  by  his  friend  "  (Dowclen). 

4.  Heavenly  alchemy.     Steevens  compares  K.  John,  iii.  i.  77  : 

"To  solemnize  this  day  the  glorious  sun 
Stays  in  his  course  and  plays  the  alchemist, 
Turning  with  splendour  of  his  precious  eye 
The  meagre  cloddy  earth  to  glittering  gold." 
He  might  have  added  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  391-393. 

6.  Rack.     A  mass  of  floating  clouds.     Cf.   Temp,  p.  137.     D.  quotes 
Bacon,  Sylva  Sylvarum,  115  :  "The  winds  in  the  upper  region,  which 
move  the  clouds  above  (which  we  call  the  rack}."     On  the  passage,  Ca- 
pell  compares  I  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  221  fol. 

7.  Forlorn.     Accented  on  the  first  syllable  because  followed  by  a  noun 
so  accented.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  124:  "Poor  forlorn  Proteus,  passion- 
ate Proteus."     For  the  other  accent,  see  A',  of  L.  1500  and  L.  L.  L.  v.  2. 
805.     See  also  on  107.  4  below. 

12.  The  region  cloud.     S.  uses  region  several  times  as  =air.    Cf.  Ham. 

"the  dreadful  thunder 
Doth  rend  the  region;" 

and  again  in  607  :  "the  region  kites."     See  our  ed.  p.  211. 

14.  Stain.  Grow  dim,  as  if  stained  or  soiled.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  48 : 
"  If  virtue's  gloss  will  stain  with  any  soil,"  etc.  Cf.  the  transitive  use  in 
35.  3  below.  See  also  the  noun  in  V.  and  A.  9  :  "  Stain  to  all  nymphs" 
(that  is,  by  eclipsing  them),  etc. 

XXXIV. — "Carries  on  the  idea  and  metaphor  of  33"  (Dowden). 
12.  Cross.     The  quarto  has  "losse;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  con- 
jecture of  Capell).     Cf.  42.  12  and  133.  8. 

XXXV. — "  The  '  tears '  of  34  suggest  the  opening.  Moved  to  pity, 
S.  will  find  guilt  in  himself  rather  than  in  his  friend  "  (Dowclen). 

4.  Canker.     Canker-worm  ;  as  in  70.  7,  95.  2,  and  99.  12  below.     See 
also  M.  N.  D.  p.  150. 

5.  Make  faults.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  804  :  "all  the  faults  which  in  thy  reign 
are  made  ;"  W.  T.  iii.  2.  218:  "  All  faults  I  make,"  etc. 

And  even  /,  etc. :  "  And  even  I  am  faulty  in  this,  that  I  find  precedents 
for  your  misdeed  by  comparisons  with  roses,  fountains,  sun,  and  moon  " 
(Dowden). 

6.  Atithorizing.     Accented  on  the  second  syllable,  as  elsewhere  in  S. 
See  Macb.  p.  218.     For  compare,  see  on  21.  5  above.     The  meaning  is  : 
"giving  a  precedent  for  thy  fault  by  comparing  it  with  mine"  (Pal- 
grave). 

7.  Amiss.     For  the  noun,  cf.  151.  3  below  and  Ham.  iy.  5. 18. 
For  corrupting,  salving,  Capell  would  read  "corrupt  in  salving." 

8.  Thy  .  .  .  thy.     The  quarto  reads  "their  .  .  .  their;"  corrected  by 
Malone  (the  conjecture  of  Capell).     Steevens  explains  the  line  thus : 
"  Making  the  excuse  more  than  proportioned  to  the  offence." 

9.  Sense.     Reason.    Malone  conjectured  "  incense  "  for  in  sense.  Dow- 


I42  NOTES. 

den  says:  "If  we  receive  the  present  text,  'thy  adverse  party'  must 
mean  Shakspere.     But  may  we  read: 

*  For  to  thy  sensual  fault  I  bring  in  sense,    [that    is,  judgment, 
Thy  adverse  party,  as  thy  advocate.'  reason] 

Sense — against  which  he  has  offended — brought  in  as  his  advocate  ?" 

14.  Sweet  thief.  Cf.  40.  9 :  "gentle  thief."  For  sourly  Gildon  has 
"sorely." 

XXXVI. — "  According  to  the  announcement  made  in  35,  S.  proceeds 
to  make  himself  out  the  guilty  party"  (Dowden). 

I.  We  two  must  be  twain.  Malone  compares  T.  and  C.  iii.  I.  no: 
"  She  '11  none  of  him  ;  they  two  are  twain." 

4.  Borne.     The  Var.  of  1821  misprints  "born." 

5.  Respect.     Regard,  affection.     Dowden  quotes  Cor.  iii.  3.  112  : 

"  I  do  love 

My  country's  good  with  a  respect  more  tender, 
More  holy  and  profound  than  my  own  life." 

Palgrave  explains  one  respect  as  —"one  thing  we  look  to." 

6.  A  separable  spite.    "  A  cruel  fate  that  spitefully  separates  us  from  each 
other  "  (Malone).     Separable  is  used  by  S.  only  here.     For  the  active  use 
of  adjectives  in  -ble,  see  Gr.  3.     Cf.  Rich.  If.  p.  185  (on  Deceivable},  Lear, 
p.  193  (on  Comfortable},  etc. 

9.  Evermore.     Walker  conjectures  "  ever  more." 

10.  My  bewailed  guilt.     Explained  by  Spalding  and  others  as  "the 
blots  that  remain  with  S.  on  account  of  his  profession  "  as  an  actor ;  but 
Dowden  thinks  the  meaning  may  be :   "I  may  not  claim  you  as  a  friend, 
lest  my  relation  to  the  dark  woman — now  a  matter  of  grief — should  con- 
vict you  of  faithlessness  in  friendship."     The  interpretation  of  many 
expressions  in  the  Sonnets  must  depend  upon  the  theory  we  adopt  con- 
cerning their  autobiographical  or  non- autobiographical  character,  and 
their  relations  to  one  another. 

12.  That  honour.     The  honour  you  give  me. 

13,  14.  These  lines  are  repeated  at  the  end  of  Sonn.  96. 

XXXVII.— "Continues  the  thought  of  36.  13,  14"  (Dowden). 

3.  So  I, made  lame.  Cf.  89.  3  below:  "Speak  of  my  lameness,  and  I 
straight  will  halt."  Capell  and  others  have  inferred  that  S.  was  literally 
lame.  Malone  remarks  :  "  In  the  8gth  Sonnet  the  poet  speaks  of  his 
friend's  imputing  to  him  a  fault  of  which  he  was  not  guilty,  and  yet,  he  says, 
he  would  acknowledge  it :  so  (he  adds)  were  he  to  be  described  as  lame, 
however  untruly,  yet  rather  than  his  friend  should  appear  in  the  wrong, 
he  would  immediately  halt.  If  S.  was  in  truth  lame,  he  had  it  not  in  his 
power  to  halt  occasionally  for  this  or  any  other  purpose.  The  defect 
must  have  been  fixed  and  permanent.  The  context  in  the  verse  before 
us  in  like  manner  refutes  this  notion.  If  the  words  are  to  be  understood 
literally,  we  must  then  suppose  that  our  admired  poet  was  also  poor  and 
despised,  for  neither  of  which  suppositions  is  there  the  smallest  ground." 
Dowden  says  :  "  S.  uses  to  lame  in  the  sense  of  disable  ;  here  the  worth 
and  truth  of  his  friend  are  set  over  against  the  lameness  of  S. ;  the  lame- 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I43 

ness  then  is  metaphorical — a  disability  to  join  in  the  joyous  movement 
of  life,  as  his  friend  does." 

Dearest.  Most  intense.  Cf.  Ham.\.  2.  182:  "my  dearest  foe;"  and 
see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  185. 

7.  Entitled  in  thy  parts.     Finding  their  title  or  claim  to  the  throne  in 
thy  qualities.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  57  : 

"But  beauty,  in  that  white  intituled, 
From  Venus'  doves  doth  challenge  that  fair  field ;" 

and  see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  183.  Malone  explains  entitled as  "ennobled." 
The  quarto  has  "their  parts,"  which  Schmidt  would  retain,  explaining 
the  passage  thus :  "  or  more  excellencies,  having  a  just  claim  to  the  first 
place  as  their  due." 

XXXVIII. — "  The  same  thought  as  that  of  the  two  preceding  sonnets: 
S.  will  look  on,  delight  in  his  friend,  and  sing  his  praise.  In  37.  14  S. 
is  'ten  times  happy'  in  his  friend's  happiness  and  glory;  thus  he  re- 
ceives ten  times  the  inspiration  of  other  poets  from  his  friend,  who  is 
'the  tenth  Muse,  ten  times  more  in  worth'  than  the  old  nine  Muses" 
(Dowden). 

8.  Invention.     Imagination,  or  the   poetic  faculty.     Cf.  76.  6,  103.  7, 
and  105.  ii  below. 

13.  Curious.     Fastidious,  critical.     Cf.  A.  W.  \.  2.  20 : 

"  Frank  Nature,  rather  curious  than  in  haste, 
Hath  well  compos'd  thee." 

XXXIX.— "In  38  S.  spoke  of  his  friend's  worth  as  ten  times  that 
of  the  nine  Muses,  but  in  37  he  had  spoken  of  his  friend  as  the  better 
part  of  himself.  He  now  asks  how  he  can  with  modesty  sing  the  worth 
of  his  own  better  part.  Thereupon  he  returns  to  the  thought  of  36, '  we 
two  must  be  twain ;'  and  now,  not  only  are  the  two  lives  to  be  divided, 
but  '  our  dear  love  ' — undivided  in  36 — must  *  lose  name  of  single  one ' " 
(Dowden). 

12.  Which  time  and  thoughts,  etc.     Which  doth  so  sweetly  beguile 
time  and  thoughts.     Malone  takes  thoughts  to  be  =  melancholy  (cf.  J.  C. 
p.  146).     See  on  44.  9  below.     The  quarto  has  "  dost "  for  doth  ;  correct- 
ed by  Malone. 

13,  14.  "  Absence  teaches  how  to  make  of  the  absent  beloved  two  per- 
sons: one,  absent  in  reality;  the  other,  present  to  imagination"  (Dow- 
den). 

XL.—"  In  39-S.  desires  that  his  love  and  his  friend's  may  be  separat- 
ed, in  order  that  he  may  give  his  friend  what  otherwise  he  must  give  also 
to  himself.     Now,  separated,  he  gives  his  beloved  all  his  loves,  yet  knows 
that,  before  the  gift,  all  his  was  his  friend's  by  right.     'Our  love  1 
name  of  single  one '  (39.  6)  suggests  the  manifold  loves,  mine  and  thine 
(Dowden). 

5,  6.  Then  if  for  love  of  me  you  receive  her  whom  I  love,  1  cann 
blame  you  for  using  her.     For  in  6  =  because;  as  in  54.  9  and  106.  n 
below.     Gr.  151. 


144 


NOTES. 


7.  8.  "  Yet  you  are  to  blame  if  you  deceive  yourself  by  an  unlawful 
union  while  you  refuse  loyal  wedlock  "  (Dowden).     The  quarto  has  "  this 
selfe  "  for  thyself ;  corrected  by  Gildon. 

10.  All  my  poverty.     The  poor  little  that  I  have.     Cf.  103.  I  below. 
For  thee,  see  Gr.  220. 

XLI. — "  The  thought  of  40.  13, '  Lascivious  grace,  in  whom  all  ill  well 
shows,'  is  carried  out  in  this  sonnet"  (Dowden). 

i.  Pretty.     Bell  and  Palgrave  read  "  petty."     Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii.  6.  37  : 

"  But  love  is  blind,  and  lovers  cannot  see 
The  pretty  follies  that  themselves  commit." 

3.  Befits.     See  Gr.  333. 

5,  6.  Gentle  thou  art,  etc.     Steevens  quotes  I  Hen  VI.  v.  3.  77  : 

"She's  beautiful,  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd; 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  to  be  won." 

8.  She  have.     The  quarto  reads  "  he  have  ;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the 
conjecture  of  Tyrwhitt).     Dowden  thinks  that  the  old  text  may  be  right. 

9.  Ay  me  !     H.  and  some  others  read  "  Ah  me  !"  which  is  not  found 
in  S.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  128. 

My  seat.  Malone  reads  "  thou  mightst,  my  sweet,  forbear ;"  but,  as 
Boaden  notes,  the  old  reading  is  confirmed  and  explained  by  Oik.  ii.  i. 

3°4: 

"  I  do  suspect  the  lusty  Moor 
Hath  leap'd  into  my  seat." 

Dr.  Ingleby  adds,  as  a  parallel,  JR.  of  L.  412,  413. 

XLI  I. — "In  41.  13,  14  S.  declares  that  he  loses  both  friend  and  mis- 
tress ;  he  now  goes  on  to  say  that  the  loss  of  his  friend  is  the  greater  of 
the  two  "  (Dowden). 

9.  My  love* s  gain.     That  is,  my  mistress's  gain. 

1 1.  Both  twain.     Dowden  compares  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  459 :  "  I  remit  both 
twain." 

XLIII. — Dowden  asks  :  "  Does  this  begin  a  new  group  of  sonnets  ?" 

1.  Wink.     Shut  my  eyes.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  p.  172. 

2.  Uninspected.     Unnoticed,  unregarded ;  as  in  54.  10  below,  the  only 
other  instance  of  the  word  in  S. 

5.  Whose  shadow,  etc.  "  Whose  image  makes  bright  the  shades  of 
night"  (Dowden). 

II.  Thy.  The  quarto  again  misprints  "their;"  corrected  by  Malone 
(the  conjecture  of  Capell). 

13.  All  days  are  nights  to  see,  etc.  "  All  days  are  gloomy  to  behold," 
etc.  (Steevens).  Malone  wished  to  read  "nights  to  me;"  and  Lettsom 
conjectured  : 

"All  days  are  nights  to  me  till  thee  I  see, 
And  nights  bright  days  when  dreams  do  show  me  thee." 

Thee  me  =  \.\\te  to  me.  ' 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,45 

XLIV. — "  In  43  he  obtains  sight  of  his  friend  in  dreams  ;  44  expresses 
the  longing  of  the  waking  hours  to  come  into  his  friend's  presence  by 
some  preternatural  means  "  (Dowclen). 

4.  From,     Gildon  has  "To."      Where^ 'to  where. 

6.  Farthest  earth  removed.  That  is,  earth  farthest  removed.  See  Gr. 
419^;  and  cf.  in.  2  below. 

9.  Thought  kills  me.  Here,  as  Dowden  notes,  thought  may  mean  "  mel- 
ancholy contemplation."  See  on  39.  12  above. 

11.  So  much  of  earth  and  water  wrought.     That  is,  so  much  of  these 
baser  elements  being  wrought  into  my  nature.     The  allusion  is  to  the  old 
idea  of  the  four  elements  entering  into  the  composition  of  man.     See  J. 
C.  p.  185,  note  on  His  life  was  gentle,  etc.     Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  3.  10 :  "  Does  not 
our  life  consist  of  the  four  elements  ?"  and  Hen.  V.  iii.  7.  22  :  "  He  is  pure 
air  and  fire,  and  the  dull  elements  of  earth  and  water  never  appear  in 
him,"  etc.     See  also  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  292.     Walker  quotes  Chapman, 
Iliad)  vii.  : 

"But  ye  are  earth  and  water  all,  which— symboliz'd  [that  is,  collected]  in  one- 
Have  franVd  your  faint  unfiery  spirits.'' 

XLV. — "  Sonnet  44  tells  of  the  duller  elements  of  earth  and  water  ; 
this  sonnet,  of  the  elements  of  air  and  fire"  (Dowden). 
4.  Present-absent.     The  hyphen  was  inserted  by  Malone. 

8.  Melancholy.     To  be  pronounced  melancholy  (Walker). 

9.  Recur'd.     Restored  to  health.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  465 :  "  A  smile  re- 
cures  the  wounding  of  a  frown."     See  also  Rich.  III.  iii.  7.  130. 

12.  Thy.     Again  "their"  in  the  quarto;  corrected  by  Malone. 

XLVI. — "  As  44  and  45  are  a  pair  of  companion  sonnets,  so  are  46 
and  47.  The  theme  of  the  first  pair  is  the  opposition  of  the  four  ele- 
ments in  the  person  of  the  poet ;  the  theme  of  the  second  is  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  heart  and  the  eye,  that  is,  of  love  and  the  senses  "  (Dowden). 

3.  77iy.  The  quarto  has  "  their,"  as  in  8,  13,  and  14  below  ;  corrected 
by  Malone. 

9.  'Cide.     The  quarto  has  "side  ;"  corrected  by  Sewell  (2d  ed.). 

10.  Quest.     Inquest,  or  jury  ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  4.  189  : 

"What  lawful  quest  have  given  their  verdict  up 
Unto  the  frowning  judge  ?" 

12.  Moiety.  Share,  portion  ;  not  necessarily  an  exact  half.  Cf.  Ham. 
p.  174. 

XLVIL— "Companion  sonnet  to  the  last"  (Dowden). 
i.   Took.     Capell  conjectures  "strook." 

3.  Famished  for  a  look.  Cf.  75.  10  below.  Malone  quotes  C.  of  E.  11. 
I.  88  :  "  Whilst  I  at  home  starve  for  a  merry  look." 

9.  Thy  picture  or.     Lintott  has  "  the  picture  or,"  and  Gildon  "  the  pict- 
ure of." 

10.  Art.     The  quarto  has  "  are  ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

11.  Not.    The  quarto  has  "nor  •"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 


146  NOTES. 

With  Sonn.  46,  47,  Dowden  compares  Sonn.  19,  20  of  Watson's  Tears 
of  Fancie,  1593  (ed.  Arber,  p.  188)  : 

"  My  hart  impos'd  this  penance  on  mine  eies, 
(Eies  the  first  causers  of  my  harts  lamenting): 
That  they  should  weepe  till  loue  and  fancie  dies, 
Fond  loue  the  last  cause  of  my  harts  repenting. 
Mine  eies  vpon  my  hart  inflict  this  paine 
(Bold  hart  that  dard  to  harbour  thoughts  of  loue) 
That  it  should  loue  and  purchase  fell  disdaine, 
A  grieuous  penance  which  my  heart  doth  proue, 
Mine  eies  did  weep  as  hart  had  them  imposed, 
My  hart  did  pine  as  eies  had  it  constrained,"  etc. 

Sonnet  20  continues  the  same  : 

"  My  hart  accus'd  mine  eies  and  was  offended, 

•  ,'*••»#,•• 

Hart  said  that  loue  did  enter  at  the  eies, 
And  from  the  eies  descended  to  the  hart ; 
Eies  said  that  in  the  hart  did  sparkes  arise,"  etc 

Cf.  also  Diana  (ed.  1584),  Sixth  Decade,  Sonnet  7  (Arber's  English  Gar- 
ner, vol.  ii.  p.  254) ;  and  Drayton,  Idea,^. 

XLVIII. — "Line  6  of  46,  in  which  S.  speaks  of  keeping  his  friend  in 
the  closet  of  his  breast,  suggests  48  (see  lines  9-12).  I  have  said  he  is 
safe  in  my  breast ;  yet,  ah  !  I  feel  he  is  not "  (Dowden). 

II.  Gentle  closure  of  my  breast.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  782:  "Into  the  quiet 
closure  of  my  breast." 

14.  Dowden  asks  :  "  Does  not  this  refer  to  the  woman  who  has  sworn 
love  (152.  2),  and  whose  truth  to  S.  (spoken  of  in  41. 13)  now  proves  .thiev- 
ish ?"  Capell  compares  V.  and  A.  724 :  "  Rich  preys  make  true  mea 
thieves."  For  the  antithesis  of  true  men  and  thieves,  see  Cymb.  p.  182. 

XLIX. — "Continues  the  sad  strain  with  which  48  closes.  Notice  the 
construction  of  the  sonnet,  each  of  the  quatrains  beginning  with  the  same 
words,  'Against  that  time;'  so  also  64,  three  quatrains  beginning  with 
the  words  '  When  I  have  seen.'  So  Daniel's  sonnet  beginning  'If  this 
be  love,'  repeated  in  the  first  line  of  each  quatrain  "  (Dowden). 

3.  Whenas.     When.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  p.  142. 

4.  Advised  respects.     Deliberate  considerations;  as  in  K.  John,  iv.  2. 
214  :  "More  upon  humour  than  advis'd  respects."     For  advis'd,  see  M. 
of  V.  p.  130,  or  Rich.  II.  p.  165. 

7.  Converted.     Changed.     Steevens  compares  J.  C.  iv.  2.  20 : 


"  When  love  begins  to  sicken  and  decay, 
It  useth  an  enforced  ceremony." 


8.  Reasons.     That  is,  for  the  change  it  has  undergone. 
10.  Desert.     Rhyming  with  part,  and  spelled  "  desart "  in  the  quarto. 
See  on  14.  12  and  17.  2  above.     Cf.  72.  6  below. 

L. — "  This  sonnet  and  the  next  are  a  pair,  as  44,  45  are,  and  46,  47. 
The  journey  is  that  spoken  of  in  48.  I  "  (Dowden). 

6.  Dully.     The  quarto  has  "duly;"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  !47 

7.  Instinct.     Accented  on  the  last  syllable,  as  regularly  in  S.     Cf.  2 
Hen.  IV.  p.  149. 

LI. — "Companion  to  50"  (Dowden). 

6.  Swift  extremity.     The  extreme  of  swiftness. 

10.  Perfect" st.     The   quarto   has   "perfects,"   and   Gildon  "perfect." 
Perfect1  st  is  due  to  D.    For  the  superlative,  cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  I.  317  :  "  Si- 
lence is  the  perfectest  herald  of  joy;"  and  for  the  contracted  form,  see 
Gr.  473. 

11.  Shall  neigh — no  dull  flesh,  etc.     The  quarto  reads  "shall  naigh  noe 
dull  flesh,"  etc.     Malone  was  the  first  to  make  no  dull  flush  parenthetical. 
Dowden  thinks  the  meaning  may  be,  "Desire,  which  is  all  love,  shall 
neigh,  there  being  no  dull  flesh  to  cumber  him  as  he  rushes  forward  in 
his  fiery  race."     Massey  makes^fcjv&  the  object  of  neigh  (=neigh  to). 

13.  Wilftil-slow.     The  hyphen  is  due  to  Malone. 

14.  Go.     The  word  here,  as  Dowden  notes,  seems  to  have  the  specific 
sense  of  walking  as  opposed  to  running.  '  Cf.  Temp.  iii.  2.  22 : 

"  Stephano.  We  '11  not  run,  Monsieur  monster. 
Trinculo.  Nor  go  neither;" 

and  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  388 :  "  Thou  must  run  to  him,  for  thou  hast  stayed 
so  long  that  going  will  scarce  serve  thy  turn."  Schmidt  defines  go  in 
these  two  passages  as  ="walk  leisurely,  not  to  run  ;"  but  the  instance 
in  the  text  he  puts  under  the  head  Qi go  ="make  haste." 

LIT.— "The  joy  of  hope  ;  the  hope  of  meeting  his  friend  spoken  of  in 
the  last  sonnet"  (Dowden). 

i.  Key.  Pronounced  kay  in  the  time  of  S.  Note  the  rhyme  with  sur- 
vey. 

4.  For  blunting.     For  fear  of  blunting.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  \.  2.  136 :  "  Yet 
here  they  shall  not  lie,  for  catching  cold  ;"  and  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  I.  74: 

"Now  will  I  dam  up  this  thy  yawning  mouth, 

For  swallowing  the  treasure  of  the  realm." 
See  Gr.  154. 

5.  Therefore  are  feasts,  etc.     Malone  quotes  I  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  229 : 

"  If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 
To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work; 
But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wish'd  for  come, 
And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  accidents;" 

and  Id.  iii.  2.  57: 

"and  so  my  state, 

Seldom  but  sumptuous,  showed  like  a  feast, 
And  won  by  rareness  such  solemnity." 

8.  Captain.     Chief.     For  the  adjective  use,  cf.  66. 12  below.     For  tar. 
canet=neck\2ice,  see  C.  of  E.  p.  124. 

ii.  Special  blest.  Malone  has  "special-blest."  For  adjectives  use< 
adverbially,  see  Gr.  i. 

LIII.— "  Not  being  able,  in  absence,  to  possess  his  friend,  he  finds  his 
friend's  shadow  in  all  beautiful  things"  (Dowden). 


1 48  NOTES. 

2.  Strange.     Stranger,  not  your  own. 

4.  "You,  although  but  one  person,  can  give  off  all  manner  of  shadowy 
images.     Shakspere  then,  to  illustrate  this,  chooses  the  most  beautiful  of 
men,  Adonis,  and  the  most  beautiful  of  women,  Helen  ;   both  are  but 
shadows  or  counterfeits  (or  pictures,  as  in  Sonn.  16)  of  the  '  master-mis- 
tress '  of  his  passion  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Counterfeit.     On  the  rhyme  with  set,  Walker  remarks  that  -feit  was 
pronounced  nearly  2^  fate  ;  and  so  ofei  generally.     He  quotes  Ford,  Per- 
kin  Warbeck,  iii.  2,  where  Katherine,  referring  to  the  word  counterfeit, 
says: 

"  Pray  dp  not  use 
That  word;  it  carries  fate  in  't." 

In  C.  of  E.  iv.  2.  63  straight  rhymes  with  conceit ;  and  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  399, 
conceit  with  wait.     Many  similar  examples  might  be  cited. 

8.  Tires.     Head-dresses.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  190: 

"  If  I  had  such  a  tire,  this  face  of  mine 
Were  full  as  lovely  as  is  this  of  hers." 

See  also  Much  Ado,  p.  148.     In  the  present  passage,  the  word  may  pos- 
sibly be  a  contraction  of  attires. 

9.  Poison.     Plenty,  harvest   (here  =  autumn).     See  Macb.  p.  240.     OD 
the  passage,  Malone  compares  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  86 : 

"  For  his  bounty, 

There  was  no  winter  in  't ;  an  autumn  't  was 
That  grew  the  more  by  reaping." 

LIV. — "  Continues  the  thought  of  53.  There  S.  declared  that  over 
and  above  external  beauty,  more  real  than  that  of  Helen  and  Adonis,  his 
friend  was  pre-eminent  for  his  constancy,  his  truth.  Now  he  proceeds  to 
celebrate  the  worth  of  this  truth  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Canker-blooms.  Dog-roses.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  3.  28  :  "I  had  rather 
be  a  canker  in  a  hedge  than  a  rose  in  his  grace  ;"  and  I  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  76  : 

"To  put  down  Richard,  that  sweet  lovely  rose, 
And  plant  this  thorn,  this  canker,  Bolingbroke." 

8.  Discloses.     Uncloses,  unfolds.     Cf.  Ham.  i.  3.  40  : 

"The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  spring 
Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  disclosed." 

9.  For.     Because  ;  as  in  106.  1 1  below.     See  also  on  40.  6  above. 

10.  Unrespected.     Unregarded.     Cf.  43.  2  above. 

12.  Sweetest  odours.  For  the  allusion  to  distillation  of  perfumes,  see 
on  5.  9  above. 

14.  Vade.  Fade.  See  V.  and  A.  p.  209.  The  quarto  has  "by  verse;" 
corrected  by  Malone.  That  refers  to  the  abstract  youth  implied  in  the 
concrete  youth.  * 

LV. — "  A  continuation  of  54.  This  looks  like  an  Envoy,  but  56  is 
still  a  sonnet  of  absence  "  (Dowden). 

Mr.  Tyler  (Athenaum,  Sept.  n,   1880)    ingeniously  argues   that  the 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I49 

thought  and  phrasing  of  lines  in  this  sonnet  are  derived  from  a  passage 
in  Meres  s  Palladia  Tamia,  1598,  where  Shakespeare  among  others  is 

mentioned  with  honour : 

"  As  Ovid  saith  of  his  worke ; 

Jamque  opus  exegi,  quod  nee  Jovis  ira,  nee  ignis, 
Nee  poterit  ferrum,  nee  edax  abolere  vetustas  ; 

And  as  Horace  saith  of  his  : 

Exegi  monumentum  aere  perennius, 

Regalique  situ  pyramidum  altius  ; 

Quod  non  imber  edax,  non  Aquilo  im/>otens 

Possit  diruere,  aut  innumerabilis 

A  nnorum  series  et  fuga  teinporum : 

So  say  I  seuerally  of  Sir  Philip  Sidneys,  Spencers,  Daniels,  Draytons, 
Shakespeares,  and  Warners  workes  ; 

Nee  Jovis  ira,  imbres,  Mars,  ferrum,  flamma,  senfdus, 
Hoc  opus  unda,  lues,  turbo,  venena  ruent. 

Et  quanquam  ad  pulcherrimum  hoc  opus  euertendum  tres  illi  Dii  con- 
spirabunt,  Chronus,  Vulcanus,  et  Pater  ipse  gentis  ; 

Nee  tamen  annorum  series,  non  flamma,  nee  ensis, 
Aeternum  potuit  hoc  abolere  decus." 

I.  Monuments.     The  quarto  has  "monument;"  corrected  by  Malone. 
3.  These  contents.     What  is  contained  in  these  verses  of  mine. 

7.  Mars  his  sword.    Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  i.  58 :  "Mars  his  idiot,"  etc.    Gr. 
217. 

13.  Till  the  judgment,  etc.  "  Till  the  decree  of  the  judgment  day  that 
you  arise  from  the  dead  "  (Dowden).  H.  has  this  strange  note  :  "  Arise 
is  here  used  transitively,  and  is  put  in  the  plural  for  the  rhyme,  though 
its  subject  is  in  the  singular :  *  Till  the  judgment-day  that  raises  your- 
self from  the  dead,'  is  the  meaning." 

LVI. — "This,  like  the  sonnets  immediately  preceding,  is  written  in 
absence.  The  love  S.  addresses  ('  Sweet  love,  renew  thy  force ')  is  the 
love  in  his  own  breast.  Is  the  sight  of  his  friend,  of  which  he  speaks, 
only  the  imaginative  seeing  of  love  ;  such  fancied  sight  as  two  betrothed 
persons  may  have  although  severed  by  the  ocean  ?"  (Dowden.) 

6.   Wink.     Close  in  sleep,  as  after  a  full  meal.     See  on  43.  I  above. 

8.  Dullness.     "  Taken  in  connection  with  wink,  meaning  sleep,  dull- 
ness seems  to  mean  drowsiness,  as  when   Prospero  says  of  Miranda's 
slumber  ( Temp.  \.  2.  185)  *  'T  is  a  good  dullness '  "  (Dowden). 

13.  Else.     The  quarto  has  "  As  ;"  corrected  by  Palgrave. 

LVII. — "The  absence  spoken  of  in  this  sonnet  seems  to  be  voluntary 
absence  on  the  part  of  Shakspere's  friend  "  (Dowden). 

5.  World-withont-end  hour.  "The  tedious  hour,  that  seems  as  if  it 
would  never  end.  So  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  799:  'a  world-\yithout-end  bar- 
gain' "  (Malone). 

12.  Where  yon  are,  etc.     How  happy  you  make  those  where  you  are. 

13.  Will.     The  quarto  has  "  Will "  (not  in  italics).     "  If  a  play  on 

24 


I5o  NOTES. 

words  is  intended,  it  must  be  '  Love  in  your  Will  (your  Will  Shakspere^ 
can  think  no  evil  of  you,  do  what  you  please ;'  and  also  'Love  can  dis- 
cover no  evil  in  your  will '  "  (Dowden). 

LVIII. — "  A  close  continuation  of  57  ;  growing  distrust  in  his  friend, 
with  a  determination  to  resist  such  a  feeling.  Hence  the  attempt  to  dis- 
qualify himself  for  judging  his  friend's  conduct,  by  taking  the  place  of  a 
vassal,  a  servant,  a  slave,  in  relation  to  a  sovereign  "  (Dowden). 

3.  To  crave.     For  the  to,  see  Gr.  350. 

6.  The  imprisoned  absence  of  your  liberty.     "  The  separation  from  you, 
which  is  proper  to  your  state  of  freedom,  but  which  to  me  is  imprison- 
ment.    Or  the  want  of  such  liberty  as  you  possess,  which  I,  a  prisoner, 
suffer"  (Dowden). 

7.  Tame  to  sufferance.     "  Bearing  tamely  even  cruel  distress  ;  or,  tame 
even  to  the  point  of  entire  submission  "  (Dowden).     Malone  compares 
Lear,  iv.  6.  225  :  "made  tame  to  fortune's  blows."     Bide  each  check  — 
endure  each  rebuke  or  rebuff. 

10.  Your  time  To  what,  etc.    Malone  reads  "your  time  :  Do  what,"  etc. 

LIX. — "Is  this  connected  with  the  preceding  sonnet?  or  a  new  start- 
ing-point ?  Immortality  conferred  by  verse  (54,  55)  is  again  taken  up  in 
60,  connected  with  59,  and  jealousy  (57)  in  61  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Record.     Accented  by  S.  on  either  syllable,  as  suits  the  measure. 
Cf.  122.  8  below. 

6.  Courses.     Yearly  courses,  not  daily.     Cf.  If  en.  VIII.  ii.  3.  6  : 

"  After 
So  many  courses  of  the  sun  enthron'd;" 

T.  and  C.  iv.  I.  27  :  "A  thousand  complete  courses  of  the  sun,"  etc. 

7.  Antique.     For  the  accent,  see  on  19.  10  above. 

8.  Since  mind,  etc.     "Since  thought  was  first  expressed  in  writing" 
(Schmidt). 

11.  Or  whether.     The  quarto  has  "or  where,"  and  some  modern  eds« 
print  "  whe'r  "  or  "  wher."     See  Gr.  466. 

12.  Or  whether  revolution,  etc.     Whether  the  revolution  of  time  brings 
about  the  same  things. 

LX. — "The  thought  of  revolution,  the  revolving  ages  (59.  12),  sets  the 
poet  thinking  of  changes  wrought  by  time  "  (Dowden). 

I.  Like  as.  Cf.  118.  I  below.  See  also  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  7,  Ham.  \.  2. 
217,  etc. 

5.  Nativity,  etc.  The  child  once  brought  into  this  world  of  light.  "  As 
the  main  of  waters  would  signify  the  great  body  of  waters,  so  the  main  of 
light  signifies  the  mass  or  flood  of  light  into  which  a  new-born  child  is 
launched  "  (K.).  Dowden  remarks  that  the  image  in  main  of  light  is 
suggested  by  line  I,  where  our  minutes  are  compared  to  waves. 

7.  Crooked.  Malignant.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V. iv.  I.  22  :  "If  crooked  fortune 
had  not  thwarted  me,"  etc.  For  the  allusion  to  the  supposed  evil  influ- 
ence of  eclipses,  cf.  107.  5  below.  Cf.  also  Macb.  iv.  I.  28,  Ham.  i.  I.  l2Cv 
Lear,  i.  2.  1 1 2,  Oth.  v.  2.  99,  etc. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  !5l 

8.  Confound.     Destroy.     See  on  5.  6  above. 

9.  Flourish.     "  External  decoration  "  (Malone).     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  14  : 
"  the  painted  flourish  of  your  praise,"  etc. 

10.  Delves  the  parallels.    Makes  furrows.    For  the  figure,  cf.  2.  2  above  ; 
and  for  a  different  one,  see  19.  9. 

13.  Times  in  hope.     Future  times. 

LXI. — "  The  jealous  feeling  of  57  reappears  in  this  sonnet "  (Dowden). 
8.  Tenour.     The  quarto  has  "  tenure  ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

11.  Defeat.    Destroy.    Cf.  Oth.  iv.  2. 160 :  "  His  unkindness  may  defeat 
my  life  ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  201. 

LXI  I. — "  Perhaps  the  thought  of  jealousy  in  61  suggests  this.  '  How 
self-loving  to  suppose  my  friend  could  be  jealous  of  such  an  one  as  I — 
beated  and  chopp'd  with  tann'd  antiquity !  My  apology  for  supposing 
that  others  could  make  love  to  me  is  that  my  friend's  beauty  is  mine  by 
right  of  friendship '  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Gracious.  Full  of  grace,  beautiful.  Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  4.  81  :  "a  gra- 
cious creature  ;"  T.  N.  i.  5.  281 :  "  A  gracious  person,"  etc. 

7.  And  for  myself,  etc.     Walker  conjectures  "so  define,"  and  Lettsom 
"so  myself."     Dowden  asks  :  "Does/^r  myself  mean  'for  my  own  sat- 
isfaction'?"    Perhaps  it  merely  adds  emphasis  to  the  statement. 

8.  As  /,  etc.     In  such  a  way  that  I,  etc. 

10.  Bated.  The  quarto  has  "beated,"  which  was  probably  an  error 
of  the  ear  for  bated  (= beaten  down,  weakened ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  3.  32  : 
"These  griefs  and  losses  have  so  bated  me,"  etc.),  bent  being  then  pro- 
nounced bate.  See  W.  7\  p.  170,  note  on  Baits  ;  and  cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  125, 
note  on  68.  Malone  conjectured  "  'bated,"  but  thought  beated  might  be 
right,  as  casted  occurs  in  Hen.  V.  (iv.  i.  23).  He  says  that  thrusted  is 
found  in  Macb.,  but  no  such  form  is  used  by  S.  He  has  splitted  in  C.  of 
E.  i.  i.  104,  v.  I.  308,  A.  and  C.v.  I.  24,  etc.,  catchtd  in  L.  /..  L.  v.  2.  69, 
becomed  in  R.  and  J.  iv.  2.  26,  Cymb.  v.  5.  406,  etc.  Cf.  Gr.  344.  Stee- 
vens  would  read  "  blasted,"  and  Coll.  "  beaten,"  which  W.  adopts. 

For  chopped  (the  quarto  chopt}  D.  and  others  read  "chapp'd."  Cf. 
A.  Y.L.  p.  158. 

13.  '  T  is  thee,  myself.     That  is,  thee,  who  art  my  other  self. 
» 

LXIII. — "Obviously  in  close  continuation  of  62"  (Dowden). 

5.  Steepy  night.  Malone  was  at  first  inclined  to  read  "sleepy  night," 
but  afterwards  decided  that  steepy  is  explained  by  7.  5,  6  above.  Dow- 
den takes  the  same  view.  "  Youth  and  age  are  on  the  steep  ascent  and 
the  steep  decline  of  heaven."  St.  says  :  "  Chaucer  [C.  T.  201,  755]  has 
'eyen  stepe,'  which  his  editors  interpret  'eyes  deep.'  We  believe  in 
both  cases  the  word  is  a  synonym  for  black  or  dark."  H.  reads  "  sleepy." 

9.  For  such  a  time.    That  is,  in  anticipation  of  it.    Fortify  —  fortify  my- 
self, take  defensive  measures.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  56 :  "  We  fortify  in 
paper  and  in  figures." 

10.  Confounding.     See  on  60.  8  above. 


I52  NOTES. 

LXIV. — "  In  63. 12  the  thought  of  the  loss  of  his  *  lover's  life '  occurs  ; 
this  sonnet  (see  line  12)  carries  out  the  train  of  reflection  there  started. 
'Time's  fell  hand'  repeats  'Time's  injurious  hand'  of  63.  2"  (Dowden). 
Palgrave  remarks  that  the  three  sonnets  64-66  "  form  one  poem  of  mar- 
vellous power,  insight,  and  beauty." 

2.  Rich  proud.     Hyphened  by  Malone,  like  down-ras'd  below. 

5.  When  I  have  seen  the  hungry  ocean,  etc.      Some  critics  have  ex- 
pressed surprise  that  S.  should  know  anything  of  these  gradual  encroach- 
ments of  the  sea  on  the  land ;  but  they  had  become  familiar  on  the  east 
coast  of  England  before  his  day.     For  one  striking  instance  of  the  kind, 
see  Rich.  //.  p.  178,  note  on  Ravenspurg. 

Capell  quotes  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  I.  45  : 

"O  God!  that  one  might  read  the  book  of  fate, 
And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times 
Make  mountains  level,  and  the  continent, 
Weary  of  solid  firmness,  melt  itself 
Into  the  sea !  and,  other  times,  to  see 
The  beachy  girdle  of  the  ocean 
Too  wide  for  Neptune's  hips,"  etc. 

13.  This  thought^  etc.     This  thought,  which  cannot  choose  but  weep 
...  is  as  a  death. 

14.  To  have.     At  having.     See  Gr.  356. 

LXV. — "In  close  connection  with  64.  The  first  line  enumerates  the 
conquests  of  time  recorded  in  64.  1-8"  (Dowden). 

3.  This  rage.     Malone  conjectured  "  his  rage." 

4.  Action.     Perhaps,  as  Dowden  suggests,  used  in  a  legal  sense,  sug- 
gested by  hold  a  plea. 

6.  Wrackful.     The  quarto  has  "  wrackfull ;"  the  only  instance  of  the 
word  in  S.     Cf.  wrack-threatening  in  R.  of  L.  590.     Wrack  is  the  only 
spelling  in  the  early  eds.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  177 ;  and  note  the  rhyme  in 
126.  5  below. 

10.  Chest.     Theo.  conjectured  "  quest ;"  but,  as  Malone  shows,  the  fig- 
ure is  a  favourite  one  with  S.     Cf.  48.  9  above  ;  and  see  also  K.  John,  v. 
i.  40,  Rich.  II.  i.  I.  180,  etc.     Timers  chest— the  oblivion  to  which  he  con- 
signs our  precious  things. 

12.  Of  beauty.     The  quarto  has  "or"  for  of,  and  Gildon  reads  "on." 

LXVI. — "  From  the  thought  of  his  friend's  death  Shakspere  turns  to 
think  of  his  own,  and  of  the  ills  of  life  from  which  death  would  deliver 
him"  (Dowden). 

1.  All  these.     The  evils  enumerated  below. 

2.  Born.     St.  conjectures  "  lorn,"  and  "  empty  "  for  needy. 

8.  Disabled.    A  quadrisyllable,  which  W.  prints  "  disableed."    See  Gr. 

9.  Art  made  tongue-tied,  etc.     "  Art  is  commonly  used  by  S.  for  letters, 
learning,  science.     Can  this  line  refer  to  the  censorship  of  the  stage  ?" 
(Dowden.) 

11.  Simplicity.     Folly;   as  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  23,  iv.  3.  54,  v.  2,  52, 
78,  etc. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I5^ 

LXVIL— "In  close  connection  with  66.  Why  should  my  friend  con- 
tinue to  live  in  this  evil  world?"  (Dovvden.) 

4.  Lace.     Embellish.     See  Macb.  p.  200. 

6.  Dead  seeing.     "  Why  should  painting  steal  the  lifeless  appearance  of 
beauty  from  his  living  hue?"  (Dowden.)     Capell  and  Farmer  conjecture 
"seeming." 

9.  Bankrupt.     Spelled  "banckrout  "  in  the  quarto.    See  V.  and  A  pp 
175,  184. 

12.  Proud  of  many,  etc.     "  Nature,  while  she  boasts  of  many  beautiful 
persons,  really  has  no  treasure  of  beauty  except  his"  (Dowden), 

13.  Stores.     See  on  u.  9  above. 

LX VIII.  — "Carries  on  the  thought  of  67.  13,  14.  CC  the  last  two 
lines  of  both  sonnets  "  (Dowden). 

i.  Map  of  days  outworn.  Malone  compares  R.  of  L.  1350:  "  this  pat- 
tern of  the  worn-out  age."  For  map  —  picture,  image,  cf.  R.  of  L.  402  : 
"  the  map  of  death  ;"  Rich.  II.  v.  I.  12  :  "  Thou  map  of  honour,"  etc 

3.  fyiir.     See  on  16.  n  above. 

5,  6.  For  Shakespeare's  antipathy  to  false  hair,  see  M,  of  V.  p.  149. 
Cf.  note  on  20.  I  above. 

10.  Without  all.     That  is,  without  any.     Dowden  compares  74.  2  be- 
low.    For  itself  M.a\o\\Q  conjectures  "himself." 

LXIX. — "  From  the  thought  of  his  friend's  external  beauty  S.  turns  to 
think  of  the  beauty  of  his  mind,  and  the  popular  report  against  it" 
(Dowden). 

3.  Due.  The  quarto  has  "  end  ;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  conjecture 
of  Capell  and  Tyrwhitt).  Sewell  (2d  ed.)  has  "  thy  due." 

5.  Thy.     The  quarto  has  "  Their ;"  corrected  by  Malone,  who  later 
substituted  "Thine." 

7.  Confound.     Destroy.     See  on  5.  6  above. 

14.  Soil.     The  quarto  has  "solye,"  and  the  ed.  of  1640  "sovle."     Gil- 
don  has  "  toil."     Malone  (followed  by  D.,  W.,  and  H.)  reads  "  solve  " 
(^solution).     The  Camb.  editors  and  Dowden  give  "soil,"  and  the  for- 
mer say :  "  As  the  verb  to  soil  is  not  uncommon  in  Old  English,  meaning 
to  solve  (as,  for  example,  in  Udal's  Erasmus:  'This  question  could  not 
one  of  them  all  soile '),  so  the  substantive  soil  may  be  used  in  the  sense 
of  solution.     The  play  upon  words  thus  suggested  is  in  the  author's 
manner." 

LXX.— "  Continues  the  subject  of  the  last  sonnet,  and  defends  his 
friend  from  the  suspicion  and  slander  of  the  time  "  (Dowden). 

I.  Art.     The  quarto  has  "are  ;"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 

3.  Suspect.  Suspicion.  For  the  noun,  which  S.  uses  some  dozen  tunes, 
cf.  Rich.  III.  p.  1 88. 

6.  Thy.     Again  the  quarto  has  "Their." 

Bein*  ivorfd  of  time.     "Being  solicited  or  tempted  by  the  p: 
times"  (Dowden).     Steevens  quotes  B.  J.,  Every  Man  Ont  of  his  Hu- 


'54 


NOTES. 


mour,  pro!. :  "  Oh,  how  I  hate  the  monstrousness  of  time  "  (that  is,  the 
times).  St.  conjectures  "  crime  "  for  time. 

7.  Canker.     The  canker-worm  ;  as  in  35.  4  above. 

12.  To  tie  up.  As  to  tie  up,  that  is,  silence.  Gr.  281.  Cf.  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  i.  206  :  "  Tie  up  my  love's  tongue,  bring  him  silently."  See  also  A*. 
and  J.  iv.  5.  32,  and  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  199.  Enlarg'd=ss\.  at  large,  given 
free  scope.  Hales  writes  to  Dowden  on  this  passage  :  "  Surely  a  refer- 
ence here  to  the  Faerie  Queene,  end  of  book  vi.  Calidore  ties  up  the 
Blatent  Beast ;  after  a  time  he  breaks  his  iron  chain,  *  and  got  into  the 
world  at  liberty  again,'  that  is,  is  evermore  enlargd." 

14.  Owe.     Own,  possess.     Cf.  18.  10  above. 

LXXI. — "  Shakspere  goes  back  to  the  thought  of  his  own  death,  from 
which  he  was  led  away  by  66.  14, '  to  die,  I  leave  my  love  alone.'  The 
world  in  this  sonnet  is  the  '  vile  world'  described  in  66"  (Dowden). 

2.  The  surly  sullen  bell.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.\.  I.  102 : 

"as  a  sullen  bell 
Remember'd  knotting-  a  departed  friend ;" 

R.  and  J.  iv.  5.88:  "sullen  dirges;"  and  Milton,  II  Pens.  76:  "Swing- 
ing slow  with  sullen  roar  "  (the  curfew  bell). 

10.  Compounded  am  with  clay.  Malone  quotes  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  116 : 
"  Only  compound  me  with  forgotten  dust." 

LXXIL— "In  close  continuation  of  71.  '  When  I  die,  let  my  mem- 
ory die  with  me ' "  (Dowden). 

4.  Prove.  Find  ;  as  in  R.  of  L.  613  :  "  When  they  in  thee  the  like  of- 
fences prove,"  etc.  See  also  153.  7  below. 

6.  Desert.     For  the  rhyme,  cf.  14.  12,  17.  2,  and  49.  10  above. 

7.  /.    Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  321  :  "  between  you  and  I."    See  also  Gr.  209. 
14.  So  should  you.    That  is,  be  shamed.     To  !0ve  =  for  loving.    Gr.  356. 

LXXIII. — "  Still,  as  in  71  and  72,  thoughts  of  approaching  death" 
(Dowden). 

2.  Yellow  leaves.     Steevens  compares  Macb.  v.  3.  23  : 

"my  way  of  life 
Is  fallen  into  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf." 

4.  Ruirid  choirs.  The  quarto  has  "  rn'wd  quiers ;"  corrected  in  the 
ed.  of  1640.  i  Steevens  remarks :  "  The  image  was  probably  suggested 
by  our  desolated  monasteries.  The  resemblance  between  the  vaulting 
of  a  Gothic  aisle  and  an  avenue  of  trees  whose  upper  branches  meet  and 
form  an  arch  overhead,  is  too  striking  not  to  be  acknowledged.  When 
the  roof  of  the  one  is  shattered,  and  the  boughs  of  the  other  leafless,  the 
comparison  becomes  yet  more  solemn  and  picturesque."J 

9.  The  glowing  of  such  fire,  etc.  Malone  remarks  that  Gray  perhaps  i 
remembered  these  lines  when  he  wrote  "  Even  in  our  ashes  live  [not  j 
"glow,"  as  Malone  quotes  it]  their  wonted  fires." 

12.  Consnn?d>  etc.  -  "  Wasting  away  on  the  dead  ashes  which  once  j 
nourished  it  with  living  flame  "  (Dowden). 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


'55 


LXXIV.  —  "  In  immediate  continuation  of  73  "  (Dowden). 
r.  That  fell  arrest.     Capell  quotes  Ham.  v.  2.  347  : 

"  Had  I  but  time—  as  this  fell  sergeant,  death, 
Is  strict  in  his  arrest." 

6.  Consecrate.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  134  :    "  this  body,  consecrate  to  thee,' 
etc. 

7.  His.     Its  ;  as  in  9.  10  and  14.  6  above. 

ii.  The  coward  conquest,  etc.  Dowden  asks:  "Does  S.  merely  speak 
of  the  liability  of  the  body  to  untimely  or  violent  mischance?  Or  does 
he  meditate  suicide  ?  Or  think  of  Marlowe's  death,  and  anticipate  such 
a  fate  as  possibly  his  own?  Or  has  he,  like  Marlowe,  been  wounded? 
Or  does  he  refer  to  dissection  of  dead  bodies?  Or  is  it  'confounding 
age's  cruel  knife  '  of  63.  10  ?"  If  not  a  merely  figurative  expression,  like 
this  last,  the  key  to  it  is  probably  in  the  first  question  above  :  this  life 
which  is  at  the  mercy  of  any  base  assassin's  knife.  The  latter  seems  to 
us  the  preferable  explanation.  Palgrave  says  that  the  expression  "  must 
allude  to  anatomical  dissections,  then  recently  revived  in  Europe  by  Ve- 
salius,  Fallopius,  Pare,  and  others."  Cf.  p.  39,  foot-note,  above. 

13,  14.  The  worth  etc.     "The  worth  of  that  (my  body)  is  that  which 
it  contains  (my  spirit;,  and  that  (my  spirit)  is  this  (my  poems)"  (Dow- 
den). 

LXXV.  —  "  The  last  sonnet  seems  to  me  like  an  Envoy,  and  perhaps  a 
new  MS.  book  of  Sonnets  begins  with  75-77  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Sweet-seasoned.     The  hyphen  is  due  to  Malone. 

3.  The  peace  of  you.     "The  peace,  content,  to  be  found  in  you;  an- 
tithesis to  strife''1  (Dowden).     Malone  conjectured  "price"  or  "sake" 
for  p£ace. 

6.  Doubting.  Suspecting,  fearing.  Cf.  M.  W.  i.  4.  42  :  "I  doubt  he  be 
not  well,"  etc. 

.10.  Clean.  Quite,  completely.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  p.  188.  On  the  line,  cC 
47.  3  above  (see  note). 

1  1,  12.  Possessing  or  pursuing,  etc.  1  hat  is,  possessing  no  delight  save 
what  is  had,  and  pursuing  none  save  what  must  be  taken  from  you.  CC 
27.  13  above.  For  took,  cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  I.  131  :  "  Stumbling  in  fear,  was 
took,"  etc.  Gr.  343. 

14.  Or  gluttoning,  etc.     That  is,  either  having  a  surplus  of  I 
none  at  all. 

LXXVL—  "  Is  this  an  apology  for  Shakspere's  own  sonnets—  of  which 
his  friend  begins  to  weary—  in  contrast  with  the  verses  of  the  rival  poet. 
spoken  of  in  78-80?"  (Dowden.) 

6.  In  a  noted  weed.     "  In  a  dress  by  which  it  is  always  known,  as  t 


.  . 

persons  are  who  always  wear  the  same  colours  "  (Steevens).  For  Wflrt 
see  on  2.  4  above  ;  and  for  noted,  cf.  K.  John,  iv.  2.  21  :  "  the  antique  and 
well  noted  face,"  etc.  For  invention,  see  on  38.  8  above. 

7.   Tell.     The  quarto  has  "fel,"  and  Lintott  "fell  ;"  corrected  by  Ma- 
lone.    T/iat=so  that  ;  as  in  98.  4  below.    Gr.  283. 


I56  NOTES. 

8.  Where.  Capell  conjectured  "whence;"  but  cf.  Hen.  V.\\\.  5.  15,  A. 
and  C.  ii.  I.  18,  etc. 

LXXVII. — "  '  Probably,'  says  Steevens,  *  this  sonnet  was  designed  to 
accompany  a  present  of  a  book  consisting  of  blank  paper.'  'This  con- 
jecture,' says  Malone,  'appears  to  me  extremely  probable.'  If  I  might 
hazard  a  conjecture,  it  would  be  that  Shakspere,  who  had  perhaps  be- 
gun a  new  manuscript -book  with  Sonnet  75,  and  who,  as  I  suppose^ 
apologized  for  the  monotony  of  his  verses  in  76,  here  ceased  to  write, 
knowing  that  his  friend  was  favouring  a  rival,  and  invited  his  friend  to 
fill  up  the  blank  pages  himself  (see  on  12  below).  Beauty,  Time,  and 
Verse  formed  the  theme  of  many  of  Shakspere's  sonnets ;  now  that  he 
will  write  no  more,  he  commends  his  friend  to  his  .glass,  where  he  may 
discover  the  truth  about  his  beauty  ;  to  the  dial,  where  he  may  learn  the 
progress  of  time  ;  and  to  this  book,  which  he  himself — not  Shakspere — 
must  fill.  C.  A.  Brown  and  Henry  Brown  treat  this  sonnet  as  an  En- 
voy" (Dowdeny 

6.  Mouthed  graves.     "All-devouring  graves  "  (Malone).     ^LV.andA. 
757  :  "  What  is  thy  body  but  a  swallowing  grave  ?" 

7.  Shady  stealth.     That  is,  the  stealthy  motion  of  the  shadow. 

8.  Timers  thievish  progress.     Cf.  A.  W.  ii.  I.  169:  "the  thievish  min- 
utes," etc. 

10.  Blanks.  The  quarto  has  "blacks  ;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  con- 
jecture of  Theo.  and  Capell). 

12.  Dowden  remarks:  "Perhaps  this  is  said  with  some  feeling  of 
wounded  love  —  my  verses  have  grown  monotonous  and  wearisome; 
write  yourself,  and  you  will  find  novelty  in  your  own  thoughts  when  once 
delivered  from  your  brain  and  set  down  by  your  pen.  Perhaps,  also, 
'this  learning  mayst  thou  taste'  (4)  is  suggested  by  the  fact  that  S.  is 
unlearned  in  comparison  with  the  rival.  I  cannot  bring  you  learning ; 
but  set  down  your  own  thoughts,  and  you  will  find  learning  in  them." 

LXXVIII. — "  Shakspere,  I  suppose,  receives  some  renewed  profession 
of  love  from  his  friend,  and  again  addresses  him  in  verse,  openly  speak- 
ing of  the  cause  of  his  estrangement,  the  favour  with  which  his  friend  re- 
gards the  rival  poet"  (Dowden). 

3.  As  every  alien  pen,  etc.  That  every  other  poet  has  acquired  my 
habit  of  writing  to  you.  For  the  use  of  as,  see  Gr.  109.  In  the  quarto 
alien  is  in  italics  and  begins  with  a  capital.  See  on  20.  8  above. 

6.  Heavy  ignorance.     As  Malone  notes,  the  expression  occurs  again  in 
Oth.  ii.  i.  144. 

7.  The  learned'1  s  wing.     D.  compares  Spenser,  Teares  of  the  Muses : 


"  Each  idle  wit  at  will  presumes  to  make, 
And  doth  the  learned' s  task  upon  him  take." 


. 

9.  Compile.     Compose,  write  ;  the  only  sense  in  S.     Cf.  85.  2  below ; 
and  see  also  Z.  Z.  Z.  iv.  3.  134,  v.  2.  52,  896. 

12.  Arts.     Learning,  letters.     Cf.  Z.  Z.  Z.  p.  128,  note  on  Living  art. 

13.  Advance.     Raise,  lift  up.     Cf.  Cor.  p.  210. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,57 

LXXIX. — "In  continuation  of  Sonnet  78"  (Dowden). 

5.  Thy  lovely  argument.     The  argument  or  theme  of  your  loveliness. 

6.  Travail.     The  ed.  of  1640  has  "travel."     The  two  forms  are  used 
indiscriminately  in  the  early  eds.  without  regard  to  the  meaning. 

LXXX. — "  Same  subject  continued  "  (Dowden). 

2.  A  better  spirit.  For  the  conjectures  as  to  this  better  spirit^  see  p.  24 
above.  Spirit  is  monosyllabic,  as  often.  Cf.  74.  8  above ;  and  see  Gr. 
463- 

11.  Wrack" d.     The  quarto  has  "  wrackt."     See  on  65.  6  above. 

LXXXI. — "  After  depreciating  his  own  verse  in  comparison  with  that 
of  the  rival  poet,  S.  here  takes  heart,  and  asserts  that  he  will  by  verse 
confer  immortality  on  his  friend,  though  his  own  name  may  be  forgotten  " 
(Dowden). 

1.  Or.     St.  conjectures  "  Whe'r"  (—  Whether).    See  on  59.  n  above. 

12.  The  breathers  of  this  world.     Those  who  are  now  living.     Malone 
compares  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  297  :  "I  will  chide  no  breather  in  the  world  but 
myself."     Walker  proposes  to  point  as  follows  : 

"shall  o'er-read, 

And  tongues  to  be  your  being  shall  rehearse; 
When  all  the  breathers  of  this  world  are  dead, 
You  still  shall  live,"  etc. ; 

but,  as  Dowden  remarks,  it  is  rare  with  S.  to  let  the  verse  run  on  without 
a  pause  at  the  twelfth  line  of  the  sonnet. 

LXXXII. — "  His  friend  had  perhaps  alleged  in  playful  self-justifica- 
tion that  he  had  not  married  Shakspere's  Muse,  vowing  to  forsake  all 
other  and  keep  him  only  unto  her"  (Dowden). 

2.  Attaint.     Blame,  discredit.     Cf.  the  verb  in  88.  7  below.     Overlook 
=  peruse  ;  as  in  M.  N.  D.  ii.  2.  121,  Lear,  v.  I.  50,  etc. 

3.  Dedicated  words.     "This  may  only  mean  devoted  words^  but  proba- 
bly has  reference,  as  the  next  line  seems  to  show,  to  the  words  of  some 
dedication  prefixed  to  a  book  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Thou  art  as  fair  in  knowledge  as  in  hue.  "  S.  had  celebrated  his 
friend's  beauty  (hue);  perhaps  his  learned  rival  had  celebrated  the  ^pa- 
tron's knowledge;  such  excellence  reached  'a  limit  past  the  praise*  of 
Shakspere,  who  knew  small  Latin  and  less  Greek  "  (Dowden). 

10.  Strained.     Forced,  overwrought. 

11.  Sympathized.     Described  sympathetically,  or  with  true  apprecia- 
tion.    Cf.  R.  of  L.  1113  : 

"True  sorrow  then  is  feelingly  suffic'd 

When  with  like  semblance  it  is  sympathiz  d. 

The  meaning  seems  to  be :  thy  nature,  which  is  trul v  fair,  needs  no  forced 
rhetoric  to  set  it  off,  but  is  best  described  in  the  plain  language  of  simple 
truth. 

LXXXTII.— "  Takes  up  the  last  words  of  82,  and  continues  the  same 

theme  "  (Dowden). 


I58  NOTES. 

2.  Fair.     Beauty.     See  on  16.  n  above. 

5.  And  therefore  have  I  slept,  etc.     "  And  therefore  I  have  not  sounded 
your  praises"  (Malone). 

7.  Modern.     Ordinary,  common.     See  Macb.  p.  243. 

8.  What.     Malone  conjectured  "  that." 

12.  Bring  a  tomb.     Dowden  compares  17.  3  above. 

LXXXIV. — "  Continues  the  same  theme.  Which  of  us,  the  rival  poet 
or  I,  can  say  more  than  that  you  are  you  ?"  (Dowden.) 

6.  His.     Its  ;  as  in  9.  10,  14.  6,  and  74.  7  above. 

8.  Story.  Most  eds.  put  a  comma  after  this  word.  We  retain  the 
pointing  of -the  quarto,  which  Dowden  also  thinks  may  be  right. 

II.  Fame.  Make  famous.  Elsewhere  S.  uses  only  the  participle 
famed. 

14.  Being  fond  on.  Doting  on.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  266:  "More  fond 
on  her  than  she  upon  her  love."  See  also  the  verb  (though  Schmidt 
thinks  it  may  as  well  be  the  adjective)  in  T.  N.  ii.  2.  35  : 

"my  master  loves  her  dearly; 
And  I,  poor  monster,  fond  as  much  on  him." 

LXXXV. — "  Continues  the  subject  of  84.  Shakspere's  friend  is  fond 
on  praise ;  Shakspere's  Muse  is  silent,  while  others  compile  comments 
of  his  praise"  (Dowden). 

1.  Tongtie-tied  muse.     Cf.  80.  4  above. 

2.  Compird.     See  on  78.  9  above. 

3.  Reserve  their  character.     Probably  corrupt.     The  Camb.  ed.  records 
the  plausible  anonymous  conjecture,  "  Rehearse  thy  "  (or  "  your  ").    Dow- 
den suggests  "Deserve  their  character"  (^deserve  to  be  written).     Ma- 
lone makes  reserve  ^preserve  (cf.  32.  7  above),  but  does  not  tell  us  what 
"preserve  their  character"  can  mean  here. 

4.  Ftfd.     Polished  (as  with  a  file).     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  I.  12:  "his  tongue 
filed."     See  also  on  86.  13  below. 

1 1.  But  that.     That  is,  what  I  add. 

LXXXVI. — "  Continues  the  subject  of  85,  and  explains  the  cause  of 
Shakspere's  silence"  (Dowden). 
I.  Protid  full  sail.     Cf.  80.  6  above. 
4.  Making  their  tomb  the  womb,  etc.     Malone  compares  R.  and  J.  ii. 

3-9: 

"  The  earth  that  's  nature's  mother  is  her  tomb ; 
What  is  her  burying  grave,  that  is  her  womb." 

See  also  Per.  ii.  3.  45 : 

"  Whereby  I  see  that  Time  's  the  king  of  men : 
He  's  both  their  parent  and  he  is  their  grave ;" 

and  Milton,  P.  L.  ii.  911:  "  The  womb  of  nature,  and  perhaps  her  grave." 
We  find  the  same  thought  in  Lucretius,  v.  259 :  "  Omniparens  eadem  rc- 
rum  commune  sepulcrum." 

5-10.  See  p.  24  and  p.  40,  foot-note,  above. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,59 

8.  Astonished.  Stunned  as  by  a  thunderstroke.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  1730: 
"  Stone-still,  astonish'd  with  this  deadly  deed,"  etc. 

13.  Fiird  up  his  line.     Malone,  Steevens,  and  D.  read  "fil'd,"  etc. 
Steevens  cites  B.  J.,  Verses  on  Shakespeare :  "  In  his  well-torned  and  true- 
filed  lines."     But,  as  Dowclen  notes,y?//V  up  his  line  is  opposed  to  then 
lack\i  I  matter.     The  quarto  has  "fild,"  as  in  17.  2  and  63.  3 ;  while  it 
has  "fil'd"  in  85.  4. 

LXXXVIL— "  Increasing  coldness  on  his  friend's  part  brings  S.  to  the 
point  of  declaring  that  all  is  over  between  them.  This  sonnet  in  form  is 
distinguished  by  double-rhymes  throughout "  (Dowden). 

4.  Determinate.  "  Determined,  ended,  out  of  date.  The  term  is  used 
in  legal  conveyances  "  (Malone).  Schmidt  explains  the  word  as  =  "  lim- 
ited ;"  as  in  T.  N.  ii.  I.  1 1 :  "my  determinate  voyage  is  mere  extrava- 
gancy." 

8.  Patent.  PnVilege.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  i.  i.  80  :  "  my  virgin  patent ;"  A. 
W.  iv.  5.  69  :  "  a  patent  for  his  sauciness,"  etc. 

11.  Misprision.     Mistake,  error.     Cf.  Muck  Ado,  iv.  i.  187  :  "There  is 
some  strange  misprision  in  the  princes,"  etc. 

14.  No  stick  matter.     Nothing  of  the  kind.     Cf.  Much  Ado^  ii.  3.  225  : 
"  the  sport  will  be  when  they  hold  one  an  opinion  of  another's  dotage, 
and  no  such  matter,"  etc. 

LXXXVIII. — "  In  continuation.  S.  still  asserts  his  own  devotion, 
though  his  unfaithful  friend  not  only  should  forsake  him,  but  even  hold 
him  in  scorn  "  (Dowden). 

i.  Set  me  light.  Set  light  by  me,  esteem  me  lightly.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  ii. 
3.  293  :  "  The  man  that  mocks  at  it  and  sets  it  light." 

7.  Attainted.     See  on  82.  2  above. 

8.  Shalt.     The  quarto  has  "shall  ;"  corrected  by  Sewell. 

12.  Double-vantage.     The  hyphen  was  inserted  by  Malone. 

LXXXIX. — "  Continues  the  subject  of  88,  showing  how  S.  will  take 
part  with  his  friend  against  himself"  (Dowden). 

3.  My  lameness.     See  on  37.  3  above. 

6.  To  set  a  form^  etc.  By  giving  a  good  semblance  to  the  change  which 
you  desire.  Palgrave  makes  it  =  "by  defining  the  change  you  desire." 
For  the  infinitive,  see  Gr.  356.  Dowden  compares  M.  N.  D.  i.  I.  233. 

8.  /  will  acqitaintance  strangle.  "  I  will  put  an  end  to  our  familiarity  " 
(Malone).  Cf.  T.  N.  v.  I.  150:  "That  makes  thee  strangle  thy  propri- 
ety" (disavow  thy  personality);  A.  and  C.  ii.  6.  130:  "the  band  that 
seems  to  tie  their  friendship  together  will  be  the  very  strangler  of  their 
amity."  Malone  calls  strangle  "  uncouth ;"  but,  as  K.  asks,  "  why  is  any 
word  called  itncouth  which  expresses  a  meaning  more  clearly  and  forcibly 
than  any  other  word  ?  The  miserable  affectation  of  the  last  age,  in  re- 
jecting words  that  in  sound  appeared  not  to  harmonize  with  the  mincing 
prettiness  of  polite  conversation,  emasculated  our  language ;  and  it  will 
take  some  time  to  restore  it  to  its  ancient  nervousness." 


!6o  NOTES. 

13.  Debate.  Contest,  quarrel ;  the  only  meaning  in  S.  Cf.  M.  N.  D. 
ii.  I.  116: 

"And  this  same  progeny  of  evils  comes 
From  our  debate,  from  our  dissension." 

XC. — "Takes  up  the  last  word  of  89,  and  pleads  pathetically  for 
hatred  ;  for  the  worst,  speedily,  if  at  all "  (Dowden). 

6.  The  rearward,  etc.     Malone  compares  Much  Ado,  iv.  I.  128: 

"Thought  I  thy  spirits  were  stronger  than  thy  shames, 
Myself  would,  on  the  rearward  of  reproaches, 
Strike  at  thy  life." 

13.  Strains  of  woe.     Dowden  quotes  Much  Ado,  v.  i.  12 : 

"Measure  his  woe  the  length  and  breadth  of  mine, 
And  let  it  answer  every  strain  for  strain." 

XCI. — "  Having  in  90  thought  of  his  own  persecution  at  the  hand  of 
Fortune,  S.  here  contrasts  his  state  with  that  of  the  favourites  of  Fortune, 
maintaining  that  if  he  had  but  assured  possession  of  his  friend's  love,  he 
would  lack  none  of  their  good  things  "  (Dowden). 

3.  Neiv-fangled.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.\.  1. 106  and  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  I.  152. 

4.  Horse.     Probably  a  contracted  plural.     See  Macb.  p.  204,  or  Gr.  471. 
Cf.  sense  in  112.  10  below. 

9.  Better.     The  quarto  has  "bitter  ;"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 

XCII. — "In  close  connection  with  91.  This  sonnet  argues  for  the 
contradictory  of  the  last  two  lines  of  that  immediately  preceding  it.  No  : 
you  cannot  make  me  wretched  by  taking  away  your  love,  for,  with  such  a 
loss,  death  must  come  and  free  me  from  sorrow"  (Dowden). 

10.  On  thy  revolt  doth  lie.     Hangs  upon  thy  faithlessness.     Ci.-Oth. 
iii.  3.  188  :  "  The  smallest  doubt  or  fear  of  her  revolt,"  etc. 

13.  Blessed -fair.     Hyphened  by  Malone. 

XCIII. — "Carries  on  the  thought  of  the  last  line  of  92"  (Dowden). 

7.  ///  many^s  looks.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  3.  91 :   "  in  many's  eyes  "  (omitted 
by  Schmidt). 

11.  Whatier.     The  quarto  has  "what  ere  ;"  corrected  by  Gildon. 

XCIV. — "In  93  Shakspere  has  described  his  friend  as  able  to  show  a 
sweet  face  while  harbouring  false  thoughts ;  the  subject  is  enlarged  on  in 
the  present  sonnet.  They  who  can  hold  their  passions  in  check,  who 
can  seem  loving  yet  keep  a  cool  heart,  who  move  passion  in  others,  yet 
are  cold  and  unmoved  themselves — they  rightly  inherit  from  heaven  large 
gifts,  for  they  husband  them ;  whereas  passionate  intemperate  natures 
squander  their  endowments ;  those  who  can  assume  this  or  that  sem- 
blance as  they  see  reason  are  the  masters  and  owners  of  their  faces  ;  oth- 
ers have  no  property  in  such  excellences  as  they  possess,  but  hold  them 
for  the  advantage  of  the  prudent  self-contained  persons.  True,  these 
self-contained  persons  may  seem  to  lack  generosity ;  but,  then,  without 
making  voluntary  gifts  they  give  inevitably,  even  as  the  summer's  flower 
is  sweet  to  the  summer,  though  it  live  and  die  only  to  itself.  Yet,  let 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  l£l 

such  an  one  beware  of  corruption,  which  makes  odious  the  sweetest  flow- 
ers "  (Dowden). 

4.  Cold.     The  quarto  has  "could  ;"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 

6.  Expense.     Expenditure,  waste.     Cf.  129.  I  below. 

11.  Base.     St.  conjectures  "foul,"  and  Walker  "barest"  for  basest  in 
the  next  line. 

14.  Lilies,  etc.  This  line  is  found  also  in  Edw.  III.  ii.  i,  the  passage 
being  as  follows  : 

"  A  spacious  field  of  reasons  could  I  urge 
Between  his  glory,  daughter,  and  thy  shame: 
That  poison  shows  worst  in  a  golden  cup : 
Dark  night  seems  darker  by  the  lightning  flash ; 
Lilies,  that  fester,  smell  far  worse  than  weeds ; 
And  every  glory,  that  inclines  to  sin, 
The  same  is  treble  by  the  opposite." 

The  scene  is  one  that  some  critics  ascribe  to  S.  The  play  was  first  print- 
ed in  1596.  See  also  on  142.  6  below.  Festtr=iot ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  iv.  3. 
88  and  R.  and  J.  iv.  3.  43. 

Dowden  compares  with  this  sonnet  T.  N.  iii.  4. 399  fol.*:  "  But  O  how 
vile  an  idol,"  etc. 

XCV. — "  Continues  the  warning  of  94.  13,  14.  Though  now  you  seem 
to  make  the  shame  beautiful,  beware  !  a  time  will  come  when  it  may  be 
otherwise  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Canker.     See  on  35.  4  above. 

8.  Aiming  thy  name,  etc.     Steevens  compares  A.  and  C.  ii.  2.  243  : 

"for  vilest  things 

Become  themselves  in  her,  that  the  holy  priests 
Bless  her  when  she  is  riggish." 

12.  Turn.     The  quarto  has  "  turnes  ;"     corrected  by  Sewell. 

XCVL— "  Continues  the  subject  of  95.  Pleads  against  the  misuse  of 
his  friend's  gifts,  against  youthful  licentiousness  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Gentle  sport.     Cf.  95.  6  above. 

3.  More  and  less.     High  and  low;  as  in  I  Hen.  IV.  iv.  3.68:  "The 
more  and  less  came  in  with  cap  and  knee."     See  our  ed.  p.  192. 

10.  If  like  a  lamb,  etc.  "  If  he  could  change  his  natural  look,  and  as- 
sume the  innocent  visage  of  a  lamb"  (Malone).  As  Dowden  notes,  the 
thought  of  9,  10  is  expressed  in  different  imagery  in  93.  For  translate^- 
transform,  cf.  Ham.  iii.  I.  113  :  "translate  beauty  into  his  likeness." 

12.  The  strength  of  all  thy  state.      "  Used  periphrastically,  and  =all 
thy  strength  "  (Schmidt).     Dowden  makes  state  =  "  majesty,  splendour." 

13,  14.     The  same  couplet  closes  Sonn.  36.     See  p.  33  above. 


6.  The  teeming  autumn,  etc.     Malone  compares  M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  112  : 
'  The  childing  autumn,"  etc. 


1 62  NOTES. 

7.  Prime.  Spring;  as  in  R.  of  L.  332:  "To  add  a  more  rejoicing  to 
the  prime." 

10.  Hope  of  orphans.     "Such  hope  as  orphans  bring;  or,  expectation 
of  the  birth  of  children  whose  father  is  dead"  (Dowden). 

XCVIII. — "The  subject  of  97  is  Absence  in  Summer  and  Autumn; 
the  subject  of  98  and  99,  Absence  in  Spring"  (Dowden). 

2.  Proud-pied  April.  April  in  its  richly  variegated  apparel.  For  pied, 
cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  904 :  "  daisies  pied,"  etc.  On  the  passage,  Malone  com- 
pares R.  and  J.  i.  2.  27  : 

"Such  comfort  as  do  lusty  young  men  feel 
When  well-apparell'd  April  on  the  heel 
Of  limping  winter  treads." 

4.  That.  So  that;  as  in  76.  7  above.  Heavy  Saturn  =  " :  the  gloomy 
side  of  nature  ;  or  the  saturnine  spirit  in  life"  (Palgrave). 

6.  Different  flowers  in,  etc.     That  is,  flowers  different  in,  etc.     Cf.  44. 
6  above.     Gr.  419^7. 

7.  Summer's  story.     Malone  remarks  :   "  By  a  summer's  story  S.  seems 
to  have  meant  some  gay  fiction.     Thus  his  comedy  founded  on  the  ad- 
ventures of  the  king  and  queen  of  the  fairies,  he  calls  a  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream.  *     On  the  other  hand,  in  W.  T.  he  tells  us  '  a  sad  tale 's  best  for 
•winter?     So  also  in  Cymb.  iii.  4.  12  : 

'If  't  be  summer  news, 
Smile  to  't  before;  if  winterly,  thou  need'st 
But  keep  that  countenance  still.'  " 

9.  Lily's.  The  quarto  has  "lillies,"  which  was  probably  meant  to 
be  the  possessive ;  but  Malone  and  others  retain  it  as  the  objective 
plural. 

11.  They  were  but  sweet,  etc.     "The  poet  refuses  to  enlarge  on  the 
beauty  of  the  flowers,  declaring  that  they  are  only  sweet,  only  delightful, 
so  far  as  they  resemble  his  friend"  (Steevens).     Malone  would  read 
"  They  were,  my  sweet,"  etc.     Lettsom  proposes  "  They  were  but  fleet- 
ing figures  of  delight." 

XCIX. — "  In  connection  with  the  last  line  of  98.  The  present  sonnet 
has  fifteen  lines,  as  also  has  one  of  the  sonnets  in  Barnes's  Parthenophil 
and  Parthenophe  "  (Dowden). 

6.  Condemned  for  thy  hand.     Condemned  for  stealing  the  whiteness 
of  thy  hand. 

7.  And  buds  of  marjoram,  etc.     Dowden  compares  Suckling's  Tragedy 
of  Brennoralt,  iv.  I  : 

,  "  Hair  curling,  and  cover'd  like  buds  of  marjoram ; 

Part  tied  in  negligence,  part  loosely  flowing." 

He  adds :  "  Mr.  H.  C.  Hart  tells  me  that  buds  of  marjoram  are  dark 

*  Dowden  asks :  "  But  is  not  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  so  named  because  on 
Midsummer  Eve  men's  dreams  ran  riot,  ghosts  were  visible,  maidens  practised  divina- 
tion for  husbands,  and  'midsummer  madness'  (T.  N.  iii.  4.  61)  reached  its  height?" 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ^3 

purple-red  before  they  open,  and  afterwards  pink ;  dark  auburn  I  sup- 
pose would  be  the  nearest  approach  to  marjoram  in  the  colour  of  hair. 
Mr.  Hart  suggests  that  the  marjoram  has  stolen  not  colour  but  perfume 
from  the  young  man's  hair.  Gervase  Markham  gives  sweet  marjoram 
as  an  ingredient  in  'The  water  of  sweet  smells,'  and  Culpepper  says 
'marjoram  is  much  used  in  all  odoriferous  waters.'  Cole  (Adam  in 
Eden,  ed.  1657)  says  '  Marjerome  is  a  chief  ingredient  in  most  of  those 
powders  that  Barbers  use,  in  whose  shops  I  have  seen  great  store  of  this 
herb  hung  up.' " 

8.  On  thorns  did  stand.     A  quibbling  allusion  to  the  proverbial  ex- 
pression, "  to  stand  on  thorns."    Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4.  596 :  "  But  O  the  thorns 
we  stand  upon !" 

9.  One.     The  quarto  has  "  Our ;"  corrected  by  Sewell. 

13.  Canker.     See  on  35.  4  above. 

15.  Sweet.     Walker  conjectures  "scent" 

C. — "  Written  after  a  cessation  from  sonnet-writing,  during  which  S. 
had  been  engaged  in  authorship — writing  plays  for  the  public  as  I  sup- 
pose, instead  of  poems  for  his  friend"  (Dowden). 

3.  Fury.  Poetic  enthusiasm  or  inspiration.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  229 : 
"  what  fury  hath  inspir'd  thee  now  ?"  So  we  have  "  prophetic  fury  "  in 
Of  A.  iii.  4.  72. 

9.  Resty.  Too  fond  of  rest,  torpid;  as  in  Cymb.  iii.  6.  34:  "resty 
sloth,"  etc.  D.  quotes  Coles,  Latin  Diet. :  "  Resty,  piger,  lentns" 

II.  Satire.  Satirist.  Walker  quotes  B.  J.,  Masque  of  Time  Vindicated: 
"'T  is  Chronomastix,  the  brave  satyr;"  Poetaster,  v.  i:  "The  honest 
satyr  hath  the  happiest  soul "  \satyr  and  satire  were  used  interchange- 
ably in  this  sense]  ;  Goffe,  Courageous  Turk,  ii.  3  : 

"  Poor  men  may  love,  and  none  their  wills  correct, 
But  all  turn  satires  of  a  king's  affect ;" 

Shirley,  Witty  Fair  One,  i.  3  :  "  prithee,  Satire,  choose  another  walk,"  etc. 

14.  So  thou  prevenfst,  etc.     "  So  by  anticipation  thou  hinderest  the 
destructive  effects  of  his  weapons"  (Steevens). 

CL— "  Continues  the  address  to  his  Muse,  calling  on  her  to  sing  again 
the  praises  of  his  friend :  100  calls  on  her  to  praise  his  beauty  ;  101,  his 
1  truth  in  beauty  dyed  '  "  (Dowden). 

6.  His  colour.     That  of  my  friend. 

7.  Lay.     That  is,  lay  on,  like  a  painter's  colours.     Cf.  T.  N.  \.  5.  258 : 

"  'T  is  beauty  truly  blent,  whose  red  and  white 
Nature's  own  sweet  and  cunning  hand  laid  on." 

ii.  Him.     Changed  to  "  her  "  in  the  ed.  of  1640  ;  as  him  and  he  in  14 

to  "  her  "  and  "  she." 

CIL— "In  continuation.  An  apology  for  having  ceased  to  sing" 
(Dowden). 


1 64 


NOTES. 


3.  That  love  is  merchandized,  etc.     See  on  21.  14  above  ;  and  cf.  L.  L. 

*'  "my  beauty,  though  but  mean, 

Needs  not  the  painted  flourish  of  your  praise : 
Beauty  is  bought  by  judgment  of  the  eye, 
Not  utter'd  by  base  sale  of  chapmen's  tongues." 

7.  In  summer 'j  front.     In  the  beginning  of  summer.     Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4. 
3 :   "  Peering  in  April's  front." 

8.  Her  pipe.     The  quarto  has  "  his  pipe ;"    corrected  by  Housman 
(Coll.  of  Eng.  Sonnets,  1835). 

9.  Not  that  the  summer,  etc.     Capell  quotes  M.  of  V.  v.  I.  104  : 

"The  nightingale,  if  she  should  sing  by  day, 
When  every  goose  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 
No  better  a  musician  than  the  wren." 

CIII. — "Continues  the  same  apology"  (Dowden). 

3.   The  argument,  all  bare.     The  mere  theme  of  my  verse. 

7.  Blunt.     Dull,  clumsy. 

9.  Striving  to  mend,  etc.     Malone  compares  Lear,  i.  4.  369:  "  Striving 
to  better,  oft  we  mar  what 's  well." 

CIV. — "  Resumes  the  subject  from  which  the  poet  started  in  100. 
After  absence  and  cessation  from  song,  he  resurveys  his  friend's  face, 
and  inquires  whether  Time  has  stolen  away  any  of  its  beauty.  Note 
the  important  reference  to  time,  three  years  '  since  first  I  saw  you  fresh '  " 
(Dowden). 

3.  Winters.     D.  reads  "  winters',"  which  may  be  right. 

4.  Summers'  pride.     Steevens  cites  R.  and  J.  i.  2.  10 :   "  Let  two  more 
summers  wither  in  their  pride." 

10.  Steal  from  his  figure.     Creep  away  from  the  figure  on  the  dial. 
Cf.  77.  7  above. 

CV. — "To  the  beauty  praised  in  ioo,.and  the  truth  and  beauty  in 
101,  S.  now  adds  a  third  perfection,  kindness ;  and  these  three  sum  up 
the  perfections  of  his  friend  "  (Dowden). 

i.  Let  not  my  love,  etc.  "  Because  tjie  continual  repetition  of  the  same 
praises  seemed  like  a  form  of  worship"  (Walker).  Cf.  108.  1-8. 

14.  Never  kept  seat.  Gildon  reads  "never  sate,"  and  Sewell  "have 
never  sate." 

CVI. — "  The  last  line  of  105  declares  that  his  friend's  perfections  were 
never  before  possessed  by  one  person.  This  leads  the  poet  to  gaze  back- 
ward on  the  famous  persons  of  former  ages,  men  and  women,  his  friend 
being  possessor  of  the  united  perfections  of  both  man  and  woman  (as  in 
20  and  53)  "  (Dowden). 

i.  Chronicle.  Hales  (quoted  by  Dowden)  asks  :  "  What  chronicle  is 
he  thinking  of?  The  Faerie  Qneene  ?"  The  chronicle  of  wasted  time  may 
be  simply  =the  history  of  the  past. 

8.  Master.     Possess,  control ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  137  :   "  these  he  mas- 
ters now,"  etc. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,$5 

9.  Dovvden  compares  Constable's  Diana: 

"  Miracle  of  the  world,  I  never  will  deny 
That  former  poets  praise  the  beauty  of  their  days ; 
But  all  those  beauties  were  but  figures  of  thy  praise, 
And  all  those  poets  did  of  thee  but  prophesy." 

11.  And  for  they  looked.      And   because  they  looked.     See  on  54.9 
above. 

12.  Skill.     The  quarto  has  "still ;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  conject- 
ure of  Tyrwhitt  and  Capell). 

C  VII. — "  Continues  the  celebration  of  his  friend,  and  rejoices  in  their 
restored  affection.  Mr.  Massey  explains  this  sonnet  as  a  song  of  tri- 
umph for  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  deliverance  of  Southampton 
from  the  Tower.  Elizabeth  (Cynthia)  is  the  eclipsed  mortal  moon  of 
line  5  ;  cf.  A.  and  C.  Hi.  13.  153  : 

'  Alack,  our  terrene  moon  [Cleopatra] 
Is  now  eclips'd.' 

But  an  earlier  reference  to  a  moon-eclipse  (35.  3)  has  to  do  with  his 
friend,  not  with  Elizabeth,  and  in  the  present  sonnet  the  moon  is  imag- 
ined as  having  endured  her  eclipse,  and  come  out  none  the  less  bright. 
I  interpret  (as  Mr.  Simpson  does,  in  his  Philosophy  of  Shaksperis  Son- 
nets, p.  79) :  '  Not  my  own  fears  (that  my  friend's  beauty  may  be  on  the 
wane  (see  104.  9-14)  nor  the  prophetic  soul  of  the  world,  prophesying 
in  the  persons  of  dead  knights  and  ladies  your  perfections  (see  106), 
and  so  prefiguring  your  death,  can  confine  my  lease  of  love  to  a  brief 
term  of  years.  Darkness  and  fears  are  past,  the  augurs  of  ill  find  their 
predictions  falsified,  doubts  are  over,  peace  has  come  in  place  of  strife ; 
the  love  in  my  heart  is  fresh  and  young  (see  108.  9),  and  I  have  con- 
quered Death,  for  in  this  verse  we  both  shall  find  life  in  the  memories 
of  men  '  "  (Dowden). 

4.  Supposed  as  forfeit,  etc.     "  Supposed  to  be  a  lease  expiring  within  a 
limited  term"  (Dowden). 

Confined.  For  the  accent,  see  on  33.  7.  For  the  ordinary  accent,  cf. 
105.  7  and  no.  12. 

5.  Eclipse.     See  on  60.  7  above. 

6.  Mock  their  oi<>n  presage.     "  Laugh  at  the  futility  of  their  own  pre- 
dictions "  (Steevens). 

7.  Incerlainties.     Cf.  115.  ii  below,  and  W.  T.  iii.  2.  170.     These  are 
the  only  instances  of  the  word  in  S.,  and  uncertainty  also  occurs  three 
times. 

8.  And  peace  proclaims,  etc.     "The  peace  completed  early  in   1609, 
which  ended  the  war  between  Spain  and  the  United  Provinces,  might 
answer  to  the  tone  of  this  sonnet.     Mr.  Massey  dates  it  at  the  accession 
of  James  I.,  and  argues  that  the  eclipse  of  the  mortal  moon  refers  to  the 
death  of  Elizabeth  "  (Palgrave).     See  Dowden's  note  above. 

10.  My  love  looks  fresh.  "  I  am  not  sure  whether  this  means  '  the  love 
in  my  heart,'  or  'my  love'  =my  friend.  Compare  104.  8  and  108.  9" 
(Dowden). 

Subscribes.     Yields,  submits.     Cf.  Lear,  p.  178. 

25 


!66  NOTES. 

12.  Insults  o'er.     Exults  or  triumphs  over.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  3.  14: 
"  insulting  o'er  his  prey." 

CVIII. — "  How  can  '  this  poor  rhyme '  which  is  to  give  us  both  unend- 
ing life  (107.  10-14)  be  carried  on  ?  Only  by  saying  over  again  the  same 
old  things.  But  eternal  love,  in  'love's  fresh  case  '  (an  echo  of  'my  love 
looks  -fresh,'  107.  10),  knows  no  age,  and  finds  what  is  old  still  fresh  and 
young  "  (Dowden). 

3.  New  to  register.     The  quarto  has  "  now "  for  new  ;  corrected  by 
Malone.     Walker  would  read  "  What 's  now  to  speak,  what  now,"  etc/ 

5.  Sweet  boy.     The  ed.  of  1640  has  "  sweet-love." 

9.  Love's  fresh  case.  "  Love's  new  condition  and  circumstances,  the 
new  youth  of  love  spoken  of  in  107.  10"  (Dowden).  Malone  takes  it  to 
be  a  reference  to  the  poet's  own  compositions. 

13.  14.  Finding,  etc.     "  Finding  the  first  conception  of  love — that  is, 
love  as  passionate  as  at  first — excited  by  one  whose  years  and  outward 
form  show  the  effects  of  age  "  (Dowden). 

CIX. — "  The  first  ardour  of  love  is  now  renewed  as  in  the  days  of  our 
early  friendship  (108.  13,  14).  But  what  of  the  interval  of  absence  and 
estrangement?  S.  confesses  his  wanderings,  yet  declares  that  he  was 
never  wholly  false  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Qualify.     Temper,  moderate.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  424  : 

"  His  rage  of  lust  by  gazing  qualified; 
Slack'd,  not  suppressed,''  etc. 

4.  /;/  thy  breast.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  826 :   "  Hence  ever  then  my  heart  is 
in  thy  breast."     See  also  A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  121,  Rich.  III.  \.  i.  204,  etc. 

5.  My  home  of  love,  etc.     Malone  compares  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  170  : 

"My  heart  to  her  but  as  guest-wise  sojourn' d, 
And  now  to  Helen  is  it  home  return'd." 

7.  Just  to  the  time,  etc.     "  Punctual  to  the  time,  not  altered  with  the 
time"  (Dowden);  the  only  instance  of  this  sense  of  exchanged  in  S. 
ii.  Stairfd.     St.  conjectures  "strain'd." 

14.  My  rose.     Cf.  I.  2  above. 

CX. — "In  109  S.  has  spoken  of  having  wandered  from  his  'home  of 
love ;'  here  he  continues  the  subject,  '  Alas,  't  is  true  I  have  gone  here 
and  there.'  This  sonnet  and  the  next  are  commonly  taken  to  express 
distaste  for  his  life  as  a  player  "  (Dowden). 

2.  Motley.    A  wearer  of  motley,  that  is,  a  fool  or  jester.    See  A.  Y.L.  p.  162. 

3.  Gor'd  mine  own  thoughts.     That  is,  done  violence  to  them.     Cf.  T. 
and  C.  iii.  3.  228  :   "  My  fame  is  shrewdly  gor'd,"  etc. 

4.  Made  old  offences,  etc.     "  Entered  into  new  friendships  and  loves 
which  were  transgressions  against  my  old  love  "  (Dowden). 

6.  Strangely.     Distantly,  mistrustfully.     Cf.  49.  5  above. 

7.  Blenches.      Startings-aside,  aberrations  ;    the  only  instance  of  the 
noun  in  S.     Cf.  the  verb  in  W.  T.  i.  2. 333,  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  68,  M.for  M. 
iv.  5.  5,  etc. 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


167 


9.  Have  what  shall  have  no  end.     Mai  one  reads  "  save  what "  (the  con- 
jecture of  Tyrwhitt) ;  but  the  meaning  is  "  now  all  my  wanderings  and 
errors  ave  over,  take  love  which  has  no  end  "  (Dowden). 

10.  Grind.     Whet. 

12.  A  god in  love,  etc.  "This  line  seems  to  be  a  reminiscence  of  the 
thoughts  expressed  in  105,  and  to  refer  to  the  First  Commandment'1 
(Dowden). 

CXI. — "  Continues  the  apology  for  his  wanderings  of  heart,  ascribing 
them  to  his  ill  fortune — that,  as  commonly  understood,  which  compels 
him  to  a  player's  way  of  life  "  (Dowden). 

1.  With.     The  quarto  has  "  wish ;"  corrected  by  Gildon.     For  chide 
with,  cf.  Cymb.  v.  4.  32,  Oth.  iv.  2.  167,  etc. 

2.  Harmful.     The  ed.  of  1640  has  "  harmlesse." 

10.  Eisel.     Vinegar.     Skelton  (quoted  by  Nares)  says  of  Jesus : 

"  He  drank  eisel  and  gall 
To  redeeme  us  withal." 
Cf.  Ham.  p.  265. 

CXII. — "Takes  up  the  word//(y  from  in.  14,  and  declares  that  his 
friend's  love  and  pity  compensate  the  dishonours  of  his  life,  spoken  of  in 
the  last  sonnet "  (Dowden). 

4.  O'er-green.  Sevvell  reads  "  o'er-skreen,"  and  Steevens  conjectures 
"  o'er-grieve."  Allow— approve  ;  as  in  Lear,  ii.  4.  194 : 

"O  heavens, 

If  you  do  love  old  men,  if  your  sweet  sway 
Allow  obedience." 

Cf.  Ps.  xi.  6  (Prayer-Book  version) :  "  The  Lord  alloweth  the  righteous." 
7.  None  else,  etc.  "  No  one  living  for  me  except  you,  nor  I  alive  to 
any,  who  can  change  my  feelings  fixed  as  steel  either  for  good  or  ill — 
either  to  pleasure  or  pain"  (Dowden).  Malone  conjectures  "e'er 
changes,"  and  K.  "so  changes."  D.  prints  "sense',"  both  here  and  in 
10  below.  In  the  latter  case  it  is  pretty  certainly  the  contracted  plural 
(see  on  91.  4  above),  and  perhaps  here  also. 

9.  Abysm.     Printed  "  Abysme"  in  the  quarto.     See  on  20.  7  above: 

10.  Adders  sense.     For  other  allusions  to  the  proverbial  deafness  of 
the  adder,  see  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  76  and  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  172. 

11.  Critic.     Carper  ;  the  only  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  p.  141. 

12.  With  ...  dispense.     Excuse.     See  C.  of  E.  p.  1 17,  note  on  103. 

13.  So  strongly,  etc.     "So   kept    and    harbour'd   in    my  thoughts' 
(Schmidt). 

14.  Are  dead.     The  quarto  has  "  y'  are  ;"  corrected  by  Malor 
D.  and  Dowden  read  "they're." 

CXIII.— "In  connection  with  112  ;  the  writer's  mind  and  senses  are 
filled  with  his  friend;  in  112  he  tells  how  his  ear  is  stopped  to  all  other 
voices  but  one  beloved  voice ;  here  he  tells  how  his  eye  sees  things  < 
as  related  to  his  friend  "  (Dowden). 


j68  NOTES. 

3.  Part  his  function.     Divide  its  function.     H.  makes  part  —  il  depart 
from,  forsake  ;"  but  partly  confirms  the  other  explanation. 

6.  Latch.  Catch.  Cf.  Macb.  iv.  3.  195:  "Where  hearing  should  not 
latch  them  ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  244.  The  quarto  has  "  lack  ;"  corrected 
by  Mai  one. 

10.  Favour.     Countenance,  aspect.     Cf.  125.  5  below.     See  also  Prov. 
xxxi.  30. 

14.  Makes  mine  eye  untrue.  The  quarto  reads  "  maketh  mine  untrue," 
which  Malone  explains  thus  :  "  The  sincerity  of  my  affection  is  the  cause 
of  my  untruth,  that  is,  my  not  seeing  objects  truly,  such  as  they  appear  to 
the  rest  of  mankind;"  and  W.  as  follows:  "maketh  the  semblance,  the 
fictitious  (and  so  the  false  or  untrue)  object  which  is  constantly  before 
me."  On  the  whole,  we  prefer  the  reading  in  the  text,  which  occurred 
independently  to  Capell  and  Malone.  Coll.  suggests  "  maketh  my  eyne 
untrue,"  and  Lettsom  "mak'th  mine  eye  untrue." 

CXIV. — "Continues  the  subject  treated  in  113,  and  inquires  why  and 
how  it  is  that  his  eye  gives  a  false  report  of  objects  "  (Dowden). 

4.  Alchemy.     Printed  "Alcumie"  in  the  quarto.     See  on  20.  7  above. 

5.  Indigest.     Chaotic,  formless.     Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  v.  I.  157:   "foul  indi- 
gested lump;"  and  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  6.  51  :   "an  indigested  and  deformed 
lump."     These  are  the  only  instances  of  the  words  in  S. 

6.  Cherubins.     Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  152:    "a  cherubin  ;"   and  see  our  ed. 
p.  115. 

9.  '  T  is  flattery  in  my  seeing.     Dowden  quotes  T.  N.  i.  5.  238: 

"  I  do  I  know  not  what,  and  fear  to  find 
Mine  eye  too  great  a  flatterer  for  my  mind." 

11.  What  with  his  gust  is  greeing.     What  suits  its  (the  eye's)  taste. 
The  quarto  has  greeing,  not  "  'greeing,"  as  commonly  printed.     See  Wb. 
F 'or gust,  cf.  71  .A7",  i.  3.  33  :  "the  gust  he  hath  in  quarrelling,"  etc. 

13,  14.  As  Steevens  remarks,  the  allusion  is  here  to  the  tasters  to 
princes,  whose  office  it  was  to  taste  and  declare  the  good  quality  of  dish- 
es and  liquors  served  up.  Cf.  K.  John,  v.  6.  28  :  "  who  did  taste  to  him  ?7' 
and  see  Rich.  II.  p.  220,  note  on  Taste  of  it  first. 

CXV. — "  Shakspere  now  desires  to  show  that  love  has  grown  through 
error  and  seeming  estrangement.  Before  trial  and  error  love  was  but  a 
babe"  (Dowden). 

II.   Certain  o'er  in  certainty,  etc.     Cf.  107.  7  above. 

CXVI. — "  Admits  his  wanderings,  but  love  is  fixed  above  all  the  errors 
and  trials  of  man  and  man's  life"  (Dowden). 

2.  Impediments.  Alluding  to  the  Marriage  Service :  "  If  any  of  you 
know  cause  or  just  impediment,"  etc. 

Love  is  not  love,  etc.     Steevens  quotes  Lear,  i.  i.  241 : 

"  Love  's  not  love 

When  it  is  mingled  with  regards  that  stands 
Aloof  from  the  entire  point." 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


I69 


5.  An  ever-fixed  mark,  etc.    Malone  cites  Cor.  v.  iii.  74:  "  Like  a  great 
sea-mark  standing  every  flaw." 

8.  Whose  worth.  V  unknown,  etc.     Apparently,  whose  stellar  influence 
is  unknown,  although  his  angular  altitude  has  been  determined"  (Pal- 
grave)  ;    an   astrological   allusion.     Dowden   remarks :    "  The   passage 
seems  to  mean,  As  the  star,  over  and  above  what  can  be  ascertained  con- 
cerning it  for  our  guidance  at  sea,  has  unknowable  occult  virtue  and  in- 
fluence, so  love,  beside  its  power  of  guiding  us,  has  incalculable  potencies. 
This  interpretation  is  confirmed  by  the  next  sonnet  (117)  in  which  the 
simile  of  sailing  at  sea  is  introduced ;  Shakspere  there  confesses  his  wan- 
derings, and  adds  as  his  apology 

'  I  did  strive  to  prove 
The  constancy  and  virtw  of  your  love ' — 

constancy,  the  guiding  fixedness  of  love;  virtue,  the  'unknown  worth.' 
Walker  proposed  *  whose  north  'j  unknown/  explaining  *  As,  by  follow- 
ing the  guidance  of  the  northern  star,  a  ship  may  sail  an  immense  way, 
yet  never  reach  the  true  north  ;  so  the  limit  of  love  is  unknown.  Or  can 
any  other  good  sense  be  made  of  "north""  ?  Judicent  ret  astronomic* 
periti?  Dr.  Ingleby  ( The  Soule  Arayed,  1872,  pp.  5,  6,  note)  after  quoting 
in  connection  with  this  passage  the  lines  in  which  Caesar  speaks  of  him- 
self (J.  C.  iii.  i)  as  'constant  as  the  northern  star,'  writes:  *  Here  human 
virtue  is  figured  under  the  "  true-fix'd  and  resting  quality  "  of  the  north- 
ern star.  "Surely,  then,  the  worth  spoken  of  must  be  constancy  or  fixed- 
ness. The  sailor  must  know  that  the  star  has  this  worth,  or  his  latitude 
would  not  depend  on  its  altitude.  Just  so  without  the  knowledge  of  this 
worth  in  love,  a  man  "  hoists  sail  to  all  the  winds,"  and  is  "frequent  with 
unknown  minds." '  Height,  it  should  be  observed,  was  used  by  Eliza- 
bethan writers  in  the  sense  of  value,  and  the  word  may  be  used  here  in  a 
double  sense,  altitude  (of  the  star)  and  value  (of  love) ;  love  whose  worth 
is  unknown,  however  it  may  be  valued." 

9.  Time's  fool.    The  sport  or  mockery  of  Time.    Malone  quotes  I  Hen. 
IV.  v.  4.  81 :  "  But  thought  's  the  slave  of  life,  and  life  time's  fool." 

11.  His  brief  hours.     Referring  to  Time. 

12.  77ie  edge  of  doom.     Cf.  A.  W.  iii.  3.  5 : 

"  We  '11  strive  to  bear  it  for  your  worthy  sake 
To  the  extreme  edge  of  hazard." 


CXVIL—  "  Continues  the  confession  of  his  wanderings  from  his  friend, 
•ut  asserts  that  it  was  only  to  try  his  friend's  constancy  in  love  ' 

C5.  'Frequent.     Intimate.     In  the  only  other  instance  of  the  word  in  S. 
W.  T.  iv.  2.  36)  it  is  =addicted.    Unknown  minds=  persons  of  J  rte, 


b 

den). 
( 


otmg.     To  the  world,  or  society.     Cf.  70.  6  above.     Dowden  sug- 
gests that  the  meaning  may  be,  "given  away  to  temporary  occasion  wna 
is  your  property  and  therefore  an  heirloom  for  eternity. 
them"  for  time.  'f   D        .  w  ^ 

il-'~evel.     Aim  ;  a  technical  use  of  the  word    Cf.  R.  ami  J.  p.  ic 


. 
S'  the  verb  in  121.  9  below. 


iyo  NOTES. 

C XVIII. — "  Continues  the  subject ;  adding  that  he  had  sought  strange 
loves  only  to  quicken  his  appetite  for  the  love  that  is  true"  (Dowden). 

1.  Like  as.     See  on  60.  I  above. 

2.  Eager.     Tart,  poignant  (Fr.  aigre)-,   as  in  Ham.  i.  5.  69:    "eager 
droppings  into  milk." 

4.  Purge.     Take  a  cathartic.     Cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  v.  4.  168:   "I  '11  purge, 
and  leave  sack." 

5.  Ne'er- cloy  ing.     The  quarto  has  "nere  cloying,"  and  the  ed.  of  1640 
"neare  cloying;"  corrected  by  Malone  (the  conjecture  of  Theo.). 

7.  Meetness.     Fitness,  propriety  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 
12.  Rank.    "  Sick  (of  hypertrophy),"  as  Schmidt  defines  it.    Cf.  2  Hen. 
IV.  iv.  i.  64:  "  To  diet  rank  minds  sick  of  happiness." 

CXIX. — "  In  close  connection  with  the  preceding  sonnet ;  showing  the 
gains  of  ill,  that  strange  loves  have  made  the  true  love  more  strong  and 
dear"  (Dowden). 

2.  Limbecks.     Alembics.     The  word  occurs  again  in  Macb.  i.  7.  67. 

3.  Applying  fears  to  hopes.     "  Setting  fears  against  hopes  "  (Palgrave). 

4.  Still  losing,  etc.     "Either,  losing  in  the  very  moment  of  victory,  or 
gaining  victories  (of  other  loves  than  those  of  his  friend)  which  were  in- 
deed but  losses  "  (Dowden). 

7.  Fitted.  The  word  must  be  from  the  noun^/,  and  =  started  by  the 
paroxysms  we  fits  of  his  fcver.  Lettsom  would  read  "flitted,"  which 
surely  would  be  no  improvement. 

II.  Ruined  I ove,z.\.z.  "  Note  the  introduction  of  the  metaphor  of  rebuilt 
love,  reappearing  in  later  sonnets"  (Dowden).  Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  4,  A. 
and  C.  iii.  2.  29,  T.  and  C.  iv.  2.  109,  etc. 

14.  ///.     The  quarto  has  "  ile  ;"  corrected  by  Malone. 

CXX. — "  Continues  the  apology  for  wanderings  in  love ;  not  Shake- 
•speare  alone  has  so  erred,  but  also  his  friend  "  (Dowden). 

3.  "  I  must  needs  be  overwhelmed  by  the  wrong  I  have  done  to  you, 
knowing  how  I  myself  suffered  when  you  were  the  offender  "  (Dowden). 

6.  A  hell  of  time.     Malone  quotes  Oth.  iii.  3.  169: 


"  But  O,  what  damned  minutes  tells  he  o'er 
Who  dotes  yet  doubts,  suspects  yet  strongly  loves;" 


and  7?.  of  L.  1286: 


"And  that  deep  torture  may  be  call'd  a  hell, 
When  more  is  felt  than  one  hath  power  to  tell." 


9.  Our.     St.  conjectures  "  sour." 
Remembered.     Reminded  ;  as  in  Temp.  i.  2.  243  :  "  Let  me  remember 
thee  what  thou  hast  promis'd,"  etc. 


12.  Salve.     Dowden  compares  34.  7  above. 


CXXI. — "  Though  admitting  his  wanderings  from  his  friend's  love 
(118-120),  S.  refuses  to  admit  the  scandalous  charges  of  unfriendly  cen- 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  ,7, 

"  Dr.  Burgersdijk  regards  this  sonnet  as  a  defence  of  the  stage  against 
the  Puritans"  (Dowden). 

2.  When  not  to  be,  etc.     When  one  is  unjustly  reproached  with  being 
so  (that  is,  vile]. 

3,4.  And  the  just  pleasure,  etc.  "And  the  legitimate  pleasure  lost, 
which  is  deemed  vile,  not  by  us  who  experience  it,  but  by  others  who 
look  on  and  condemn  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Adulterate.     Lewd ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  79,  and  L.  C.  175.     It  is 
^adulterous  in  JR.  of  L.  1645,  Hani.  i.  5.  42,  etc. 

6.  Give  salutation,  etc.     Dowden  quotes  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  3.  103  : 

"Would  I  had  no  being, 
If  this  salute  my  blood  a  jot!" 

Sportive^ amorous,  wanton  ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  i.  14:  "  Shap'd  for  sport- 
ive tricks." 

8.  /;/  their  wills.     "  According  to  their  pleasure  "  (Dowden). 

ir.  Bevel.  Slanting;  figuratively  opposed  to  straight,  or  "upright." 
The  word  is  used  by  S.  only  here. 

CXXII. — "An  apology  for  having  parted  with  tables  (memorandum- 
book),  the  gift  of  his  friend  "  (Dowden). 

1.  Tables.     Cf.  Ham.  i.  5.  107  :   "  My  tables — meet  it  is  I  set  it  down," 
etc. 

On  the  passage,  Malone  compares  Ham.  \.  5.  98:  "  Yea,  from  the  table 
of  my  memory,"  etc. ;  Id.  i.  3.  58 : 

"And  these  few  precepts  in  thy  memory 
Look  thou  character;" 

and  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  3  : 

"Who  art  the  table  wherein  all  my  thoughts 
Are  visibly  character'd  and  engrav'd." 

3.  That  idle  rank.     "  That  poor  dignity  (of  tables  written  upon  with 
pen  or  pencil)  "  (Dowden). 

9.  That  poor  retention.     "  The  table-book  given  to  him  by  his  friend, 
incapable  of  retaining,  or  rather  of  containing,  so  much  as  the  tablet  of  the 
brain"  (Malone). 

10.  Tallies.     Notched  sticks  used  to  "keep  tally,"  as  schoolboys  still 
say.     Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  39 :  "our  forefathers  had  no  other  books  but 
the  score  and  the  tally,"  etc. 

CXXIII. — "In  the  last  sonnet  Shakspere  boasts  of  his  Masting  mem- 
ory' as  the  recorder  of  love  ;  he  now  declares  that  the  registers  and  rec- 
ords of  Time  are  false,  but  Time  shall  impose  no  cheat  upon  his  memory 
or  heart "  (Dowden). 

2.  Thy  pyramids.     "I  think  this  is  metaphorical  ;  all  that  Time  piles 
up  from  day  to  day,  all  his  new  stupendous  erections  are  really  but  '  dress- 
ings of  a  former  sight.'     Is  there  a  reference  to  the  new  love,  the  'ruined 
love  built  anew'  (119.  n),  between  the  two  friends?    The  same  meta- 
phor appears  in  the  next  sonnet :  *  No,  it  [his  love]  was  builded  far  from 


I72  NOTES. 

accident ;'  and  again  in  125  :  '  Laid  great  bases  for  eternity,'  etc.  Does 
Shakspere  mean  here  that  this  new  love  is  really  the  same  with  the  old 
love ;  he  will  recognize  the  identity  of  new  and  old,  and  not  wonder  at 
either  the  past  or  present  ?"  (Dowden.)  /^r.wV/^—adornings. 

5.  Admire.  Wonder  at;  as  in  T.  N.  iii.  4.  165:  "Wonder  not,  nor 
Admire  not,"  etc. 

7.  And  rather  make  them*  etc.  "  Them  refers  to  'what  thou  dost  foist,' 
etc. ;  we  choose  rather  to  think  such  4hings  new,  and  specially  created 
for  our  satisfaction,  than,  as  they  really  are,  old  things  of  which  we  have 
already  heard"  (Dowden). 

II.  Records.  S.  accents  the  noun  on  either  syllable,  as  may  suit  the 
measure.  Cf.  55.  8  above. 

CXXIV. — "Continues  the  thought  of  123.  13,  14.  The  writer's  love, 
being  unconnected  with  motives  of  self-interest,  is  independent  of  Fort- 
une and  Time  "  (Dowden). 

I.  State.     Rank,  power. 

4.  Weeds,  etc.    "  My  love  might  be  subject  to  time's  hate,  and  sp  plucked 
up  as  a  weed,  or  subject  to  timers  love,  and  so  gathered  as  a  flower  "  (Dow- 
den). 

5.  Builded.     The  participle  is  oftener  built ;  as  in  119.  n  and  123.  2 
above. 

7,  8.  "  When  time  puts  us,  who  have  been  in  favour,  out  of  fashion  " 
(Dowden). 

9.  Policy,  that  heretic.  "  The  prudence  of  self-interest,  which  is  faith- 
less in  love.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  2.  95  (Romeo  speaking  of  eyes  unfaithful 
to  the  beloved) :  '  Transparent  heretics,  be  burnt  for  liars '  "  (Dowden). 

II.  Hugely  politic.     "Love  itself  is  infinitely  prudent,  prudent  for  eter- 
nity" (Dowden).     H.  takes  the  phrase  to  be="  organized  or  knit  together 
in  a  huge  polity  or  State  ;"  to  which  we  can  only  add  his  own  comment : 
"  Rather  an  odd  use  of  politic,  to  us." 

12.  That.    So  that ;  as  in  76.  7  and  98.4  above.     Steevens  conjectures 
"glows  "  for  grows,  and  Capell  "  dries."  v 

13,  14.   To  this  I  witness,  etc.     Dowden  asks  :  "  Does  this  mean,  *  I  call 
to  witness  the  transitory  unworthy  loves  (fools  of  time  =  sports  of  time — 
cf.  116.  9),  whose  death  was  a  virtue  since  their  life  was  a  crime  ?"     Stee- 
vens thinks  that/00/.r  of  time,  etc.,  may  be  "a  stroke  at  some  of  Fox's 
Martyrs;"  and  Palgrave  says:   "apparently,  the  plotters  and  political 
martyrs  of  the  time."     H.  suggests  that  it  may  mean,  "those  fools  who 
make  as  if  they  would  die  for  virtue  after  having  devoted  their  lives  to 
vice." 

CXXV. — "In  connection  with  124:  there  S.  asserted  that  his  love 
was  not  subject  to  time,  as  friendships  founded  on  self-interest  are ;  here 
he  asserts  that  it  is  not  founded  on  beauty  of  person,  and  therefore  can- 
not pass  away  with  the  decay  of  such  beauty.  It  is  pure  love  for  love  " 
^Dowden). 

I.  Bore  the  canopy.  That  is,  paid  outward  homage,  as  one  who  bears 
a  canopy  over  a  superior.  King  James  I.  made  his  progress  through 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  !73 

London,  1603-4,  under  a  canopy.  In  the  account  of  the  King  and 
Queen's  entertainment  at  Oxford,  1605,  we  read  (Nichol's  Processes  of 
King  James,  vol.  i.  p.  546,  quoted  by  Dowden) :  "  From  thence  was  car- 
ried over  the  King  and  Queen  a  fair  canopy  of  crimson  taffety  by  six  of 
the  Canons  of  the  Church." 

2.  Extern.     Outward  show.     Cf.  Oth.  i.  1.63:  "compliment  extern." 
Elsewhere  S.  uses  external ;  as  in  53.  13  above.     On  the  passage,  cf.69. 
1-5  above. 

3.  Or  laid,  etc.     "The  love  of  the  earlier  sonnets,  which  celebrated 
the  beauty  of  Shakspere's  friend,  was  to  last  forever,  and  yet  it  has  been 
ruined  "  (Dowden). 

5.  Favour.     Outward  appearance.     Cf.  113.  10  above. 

6.  Lose  nil,  and  more.    "  Cease  to  love,  and  through  satiety  even  grow 
to  dislike"  (Dowden). 

9.  Obsequious.  Devoted,  zealous.  Cf.  M.  W.  iv.  2.  2 :  "I  see  you  are 
obsequious  in  your  love, "etc.  H.  explains  it  as  =  "  mourned  or  lamented." 

n.  Mix'd  with  seconds.  Steevens  remarks:  "I  am  just  informed  by 
an  old  lady,  that  seconds  is  a  provincial  term  for  the  second  kind  of  flour, 
which  is  collected  after  the  smaller  bran  is  sifted.  That  our  author's 
oblation  was  pure,  unmixed  with  baser  matter,  is  all  that  he  meant  to 
say."  Seconds  is  still  used  (at  least  in  this  country)  in  the  sense  which 
Steevens  mentions.  We  have  little  doubt  that  he  is  right  in  his  expla- 
nation of  the  figure,  which  is  not  unlike  the  familiar  one  of  the  wheat 
and  the  chaff  (cf.  Hen.  VIII.  v.  I.  1 1 1,  Cymb.  i.  6.  178,  etc.) ;  but  K.  thinks 
otherwise.  He  says,  after  quoting  Steevens's  note,  "Mr.  Dyce  called 
this  note  'preposterously  absurd.'  Steevens,  however,  knew  what  he 
was  doing.  He  mentions  the  flour,  as  in  almost  every  other  note  upon 
the  Sonnets,  to  throw  discredit  upon  compositions  with  which  he  could 
not  sympathize.  He  had  a  sharp,  cunning,  pettifogging  mind  ;  and  he 
knew  many  prosaic  things  well  enough.  He  knew  that  a  second  in  a 
duel,  a  seconder  in  a  debate,  a  secondary  in  ecclesiastical  affairs,  meant 
one  next  to  the  principal.  The  poet's  friend  has  his  chief  oblation ;  no 
seconds,  or  inferior  persons,  are  mixed  up  with  his  tribute  of  affection. 

"In  the  copy  of  the  Sonnets  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  formerly  belong- 
ing to  Malone  (and  which  is  bound  in  the  same  volume  with  the  Lucrece, 
etc.),  is  a  very  cleverly  drawn  caricature  representing  Shakspere  address- 
ing a  periwig'-pated  old  fellow  in  these  lines  : 

'  If  thou  couldst,  Doctor,  cast 
.The  water  of  my  Sonnets,  find  their  disease, 
Or  purge  my  Editor  till  he  understood  them, 
I  would  applaud  thee.' 

Under  this  Malone  has  written,  '  Mr.  Steevens  borrowed  this  volume 
from  me  in  1779,  to  peruse  the  Rape  of  Lucrece,  in  the  original  edition, 
of  which  he  was  not  possessed.  When  he  returned  it  he  made  this  draw- 
ing. I  was  then  confined  by  a  sore  throat,  and  attended  by  Mr.  Atkin- 
son, the  apothecary,  of  who'm  the  above  figure,  whom  Shakspeare  ad- 
dresses, is  a  caricature.' " 

12.  Mutual  render.  "Give-and-take.  This  sonnet  appears  directed 
against  some  one  who  had  charged  him  with  superficial  love"  (Palgrave). 


I?4  NOTES. 

13.  Suborn W  informer.  Dowclen  asks:  "Does  this  refer  to  an  actual 
person,  one  of  the  spies  of  121.  7,  8  ?  or  is  the  informer  Jealousy,  or  Sus- 
picion, as  in  V.  and  A.  655  ?" 

CXXVI. — "This  is  the  concluding  poem  of  the  series  addressed  to 
Shakspere's  friend  ;  it  consists  of  six  rhymed  couplets.  In  the  quarto 
parentheses  follow  the  twelfth  line  thus  : 

as  if  to  show  that  two  lines  are  wanting.  But  there  is  no  good  reason 
for  supposing  that  the  poem  is  defective.  In  William  Smith's  Chloris, 
1596,  a  'sonnet'  (No.  27)  of  this  six-couplet  form  appears"  (Dowden). 

2.  Fickle  hour.  The  quarto  reads  "  sickle,  hower,"  and  Lintott  "  fickle 
hower."  The  old  text  has  not  been  satisfactorily  explained.  W.  (if  his 
note  is  meant  to  be  taken  seriously)  regards  the  line  as  "  a  most  remark- 
able instance  of  inversion  for  *  Dost  hold  Time's  fickle  hour-glass,  his 
sickle.'"  Walker  conjectures  "sickle-hour,"  the  hour  being,  as  he 
thinks,  "represented  poetically  as  a  sickle;"  which  H.  adopts,  adding 
that  the  figure  is  used  "  for  the  same  reason  that  Time  is  elsewhere  pict- 
ured as  being  armed  with  a  scythe."  We  assume  that  '.'sickle"  was  a 
misprint  to*  fickle  (an  easy  slip  of  the  type  when  the  long  s  was  in  vogue), 
and  explain,  with  Mr.  J.  Crosby  :  "during  its  fickle  hour.  The  boy  sim- 
ply held  Time's  fickle  glass  while  it  raji  its  fickle  hourly  course.  Dost 
/t0/d=dost  hold  in  hand,  in  check,  in  thy  power ;  and  fickle  hour  — 
Time's  course  that  is  subject  to  mutation  and  vicissitude."  This  seems 
to  us  the  best  that  can  be  done  for  this  puzzling  passage.  For  his  —  its, 
cf.  9.  10,  14.  6,  74.  7,  and  84.  6  above. 

5.  Wrack.  For  the  rhyme,  cf.  V.  and  A.  558,  R.  of  L.  841,  965,  and 
Macb.  v.  5.  51.  See  also  on  65.  6  above. 

9.  Minion.     Darling,  favourite.     See  Macb.  p.  153. 

12.  Quietus.  "This  is  the  technical  term  for  the  acquittance  which 
every  sheriff  receives  on  settling  his  accounts  at  the  Exchequer.  Com- 
pare Webster,  Duchess  of  Malfi,  i.  I  :  '  And  'cause  you  shall  not  come  to 
me  in  debt,  Being  now  my  steward,  here  upon  your  lips  I  sign  your 
Quietus  est"1 "  (Steevens).  S.  uses  the  word  again  in  Ham.  iii.  i.  75. 

To  render  thee.  "To  yield  thee  up,  surrender  thee.  When  Nature 
is  called  to  a  reckoning  (by  Time  ?)  she  obtains  her  acquittance  upon 
surrendering  thee,  her  chief  treasure  "  (Dowden). 

CXXVII. — "The  sonnets  addressed  to  his  lady  begin  here.  Stee- 
vens called  attention  to  the  fact  that  'almost  all  that  is  said  here  on  th.e 
subject  of  complexion  is  repeated  in  /..  L.  L.  iv.  3.  250-258:  "  O,  who  can 
give  an  oath  ?"  etc.' 

"  Herr  Krauss  points  out  several  resemblances  between  Sonn.  126-152 
and  the  Fifth  Song  of  Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  (that  beginning 
'While  favour  fed  my  hope,  delight  with  hope  was  brought'),  in  which 
may  be  felt  '  the  ground  tone  of  the  whole  series '  of  later  sonnets  " 
(Dowden). 

i.  In  the  old  age  black  was  not  counted  fair.     W.  remarks  :  "  This  is  an 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  I7{. 

allusion  to  the  remarkable  fact  that  during  the  chivalric  ages  brunettes 
were  not  acknowledged  as  beauties  anywhere  in  Christendom.  In  all  the 
old  contes,  fabliaux,  and  romances  that  I  am  acquainted  with,  the  heroines 
are  blondes.  And  more,  the  possession  of  dark  eyes  and  hair,  and  the 
complexion  that  accompanies  them,  is  referred  to  by  the  troubadours  as 
a  misfortune." 

3.  Successive.     By  order  of  succession  ;  as  in  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  i.  49  :  "  As 
next  the  king  he  was  successive  heir." 

7.  Boiver.     Habitation.     Malone  reads  "  hour." 

9.  My  mistress''  brows.     The  quarto  has  '*  eyes  "  for  brows,  which  is  due 
to  the  Camb.  editors.     Walker  conjectures  "  hairs."     Cf.  W.  T.  ii.  I.  8: 

"Your  brows  are  blacker;, yet  black  brows,  they  say, 
Become  some  women  best,"  etc. 

10.  Suited.    Clad  ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  \.  2.  79,  A.  W.  \.  I.  170,  etc.    For  and 
they  D.  reads  "as  they." 

12.  Slandering  creation,  etc.     "Dishonouring  nature  with  a  spurious 
reputation,  a  fame  gained  by  dishonest  means  "  (Dowden). 

13.  Becoming  of .     Gracing.     For  0/"with  verbals,  see  Or.  178. 

CXXVIIL— i.  My  music.     Cf.  8.  I  above. 

5.  Envy.  Accented  on  the  second  syllable;  as  in  T.  of  S.  ii.  I.  18: 
"  Is  it  for  him  you  do  envy  me  so  ?"  Malone  compares  Marlowe,  Etiw. 
II. :  "  If  for  the  dignities  thou  be  envy'd ;"  and  Sir  John  Davies,  Epi- 
grams :  "  Why  doth  not  Ponticus  their  fame  envy  ?" 

Jacks.  The  keys  of  the  virginal,  or  the  piano  of  the  time.  For  the 
instrument,  see  Tivo  Noble  Kinsmen,  p.  177.  Steevens  quotes  Ram  Al- 
ley, 1611  : 

"  Where  be  these  rascals  that  skip  up  and  down 
Like  virginal  jacks?" 

11.  Thy.     The  quarto  has  "  their,"  as  in  14  ;  corrected  by  Gilclon. 

CXXIX.— i.  Expense.     Expenditure.     Cf.  94.  6  above. 
2.  Lust.     The  subject  of  the  sentence. 
9.  Mad.     The  quarto  has  "  Made  ;"  corrected  by  Gildon. 
ii.  Prov'd,  a  very  woe.     The  quarto  reads  "  proud  and  very  wo  ;"  cor- 
rected by  Sewell  and  Malone. 

CXXX.— "  She  is  not  beautiful  to  others,  but  beautiful  she  is  to  me, 
although  I  entertain  no  fond  illusions,  and  see  her  as  she  is"  (Dowden). 

4.  If  hairs  be  wires.     Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  4.  64  : 

"O,  what  love  I  note 
In  the  fair  multitude  of  those  her  hairs ! 
Where  but  by  chance  a  silver  drop  hath  fallen, 
Even  to  that  drop  ten  thousand  wiry  friends 
Do  glue  themselves,"  etc. 

5.  DamasVd.    Variegated.    Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  5.  123  :  "  Betwixt  the  con- 
stant red  and  mingled  damask." 

14.  Any  she.    Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  I.  83  :  "the  only  she,"  etc.    For  compart, 
see  on  21.  5  above. 


I76  NOTES. 

CXXXI. — "  Connected  with  130  ;  praise  of  his  lady,  black,  but,  to  her 
lover,  beautiful "  (Uowden). 

6.  Groan.  Cf.  133.  I  below.  See  also  V.  and  A.  785  :  "  No,  lady,  no  ; 
my  heart  longs  not  to  groan,"  etc. 

14.  This  slander.  That  her  face  has  not  the  power  to  make  love 
groan. 

CXXXII. — "Connected  with  131  :  there  S.  complains  of  the  cruelty 
and  tyranny  of  his  lady;  here  the  same  subject  is  continued  and  a  plea 
made  for  her  pity"  (Dowden). 

2.  Knowing  thy  heart 'torments.  The  quarto  has  "torment"  for  tor- 
uients,  and  Malone  reads  "  Knowing  thy  heart,  torment,"  etc.  The  text 
is  that  of  the  ed.  of  1640. 

4.  Ruth.     Pity.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  199. 

9.  Mourning.  The  quarto  has  "  morning,"  and  probably,  as  Dowden 
suggests,  a  play  was  intended  on  morning  sun  and  mourning  face. 

12.  Suit  thy  pity  like.    That  is,  clothe  it  similarly,  let  it  appear  the  same. 

CXXXIII. — "Here  Shakspere's  heart  'groans '(see  131)  for  the  suf- 
fering of  his  friend  as  well  as  his  own  "  (Uowden). 

I.  Beshrew.     On  this  mild  imprecation,  see  Rich.  II.  p.  192. 

II.  Keeps.     That  is,  guards. 

CXXXIV. — "In  close  connection  with  133"  (Dowden). 

5.  Wilt  not.     That  is,  wilt  not  restore  him. 

9.  Statute.     "Statute  has  here  its  legal  signification,  that  of  a  security 
or  obligation  for  money"  (Malone). 

10.  Use.     Interest ;  as  in  6.  5  above. 

11.  Came.     That  is,  who  became.     For  the  ellipsis,  see  Gr.  244. 

CXXXV. — "Perhaps  suggested  by  the  second  line  of  the  last  sonnet, 
*  I  myself  am  mortgag'd  to  thy  will"*  "  (Dowden). 

I.  Will.  "In  this  sonnet,  in  the  next,  and  in  143  the  quarto  marks 
by  italics  and  capital  W \\\z  play  on  words,  Will=  William  [Shaksnere], 
ff7//=  William,  the  Christian  name  of  Shakspere's  friend  [7  Mr.  W.  H.], 
and  £f7//= desire,  volition.  Here  'Will  in  overplus'  means  Will  Shak- 
spere,  as  the  next  line  shows,  *  more  than  enough  am  I.'  The  first  '  Will ' 
means  desire  (but  as  we  know  that  his  lady  had  a  husband,  it  is  possible 
that  he  also  may  have  been  a  *  Will,'  and  that  the  first  '  Will '  here  may 
refer  to  him  besides  meaning  '  desire  ') ;  the  second  *  Will '  is  Shakspere's 
friend"  (Dowden). 

Halliwell  remarks  that  in  the  time  of  S.  quibbles  of  this  kind  were 
common,  and  he  cites  as  an  example  the  riddle  on  the  name  William^ 
quoted  from  the  Book  of  Riddles  in  our  ed.  of  M.  W.  p.  135. 

5.  Spacious.     A  trisyllable,  V^SA  gracious  below.     Gr.  479. 

9.   The  sea,  etc.     Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  4.  103  : 

"  But  mine  is  all  as  hungry  as  the  sea, 
And  can  digest  as  much;" 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS. 


and  Id.  i.  I.  II  : 


"O  spirit  of  love!  how  quick  and  fresh  art  thou, 
That,  notwithstanding  thy  capacity 
Receiveth  as  the  sea,"  etc. 

13.  Let  no  unkind,  no  fair  beseechers  kill.  A  puzzling  line,  as  it  stands. 
Schmidt  is  doubtful  whether  unkind  is  a  substantive,  and,  if  so,  whether 
it  means  "  unnaturalness,"  or  "  aversion  to  the  works  of  love."  Palgrave 
paraphrases  thus  :  "  Let  no  unkindness,  no  fair-spoken  rivals  destroy 
me."  Dowden  says  that  if  unkind  is  a  substantive  it  must  mean  "  unkind 
one  (that  is,  his  lady),"  as  in  Daniel's  Delia,  2cl  Sonnet :  "  And  tell  th'  Un- 
kind how  dearly  I  have  lov'd  her."  He  adds  that  possibly  no  fair  may 
mean  "  no  fair  one  ;"  but  suggests  that  perhaps  we  should  print  the  line 
thus  :  "  Let  no  unkind  '  No '  fair  beseechers  kill ;"  that  is,  "  let  no  unkind 
refusal  kill  fair  beseechers."  This  strikes  us  as  a  very  happy  solution  of 
the  enigma,  and  we  have  been  strongly  tempted  to  adopt  it  in  our  text. 

CXXXVI. — "  Continues  the  play  on  words  of  135  "  (Dowden). 

6.  Ay, fill.  The  quarto  has  "I  fill  ;"  but  ay  was  usually  printed  "I." 
Dowden  suggests  that  possibly  there  may  be  a  play  on  ay  and  /. 

8.  One  is  reckon "d  none.     See  on  8.  14  above. 

10.  Store's.  The  quarto  has  "stores  ;"  the  Camb.  editors  follow  Ma- 
lone  in  reading  "  stores'."  Schmidt  says  of  Store :  "  used  only  in  the  sing.  ; 
therefore  in  Sonn.  136.  10,  storeys  not  stores'."  -"Lines  9,  10  mean  *  You 
need  not  count  me  when  merely  counting  the  number  of  those  who  hold 
you  dear,  but  when  estimating  the  worth  of  your  possessions,  you  must 
have  regard  to  me.'  *  To  set  store  by  a  thing  or  person  '  is  a  phrase  con- 
nected with  the  meaning  of 'store'  in  this  passage"  (Dowden). 

12.  Something  sweet.     Walker  proposed  and  Dyce  reads  "something, 
sweet." 

13,  14.  "  Love  only  my  name  (something  less  than  loving  myself),  and 
then  thou  lovest  me,  for  my  name  is  Will,  and  I  myself  am  all  will,  that 
is,  all  desire  "  (Dowden). 

CXXXVIL— "In  136  he  has  prayed  his  lady  to  receive  him  in  the 
blindness  of  love  ;  he  now  shows  how  Love  has  dealt  with  his  own  eyes  " 
(Dowden). 

6.  Anchored.     Malone  compares  A.  and  C.  i.  5-  33  :  , 

"and  great  Pornpey 

Would  stand  and  make  his  eyes  grow  in  my  brow ; 
There  would  he  anchor  his  aspect ;" 

and  Steevens  adds  M.for  M.  ii.  4.  4  : 

"  Whilst  my  invention,  hearing  not  my  tongue, 

Anchors  on  Isabel/' 

o.  Several  plot.  Halliwell  says  :  "  Fields  that  were  enclosed  were  called 
severals  in  opposition  to  commons,  the  former  belonging  to  individuals, 
the  others  to  the  inhabitants  generally.  When  commons  were  enclosed, 
portions  allotted  to  owners  of  freeholds,  copyholds,  and  cottages,  were 


I78  NOTES. 

fenced  in,  and  termed  several*  "     Cf.  /..  L.  L.  ii.  I.  233  :  "  My  lips  are  no 
common  though  several  they  be ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  137. 

CXXXVIII.— "Connected  with  137.  The  frauds  practised  by  blind 
love,  and  the  blinded  lovers,  Shakspere  and  his  lady,  who  yet  must  strive 
to  blind  themselves  "  (Dowden).  This  sonnet  appeared  as  the  first  poem 
of  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  (published  in  1599,  when  S.  was  in  his  35th 
year)  in  the  following  form  : 

"  When  my  love  swears  that  she  is  made  of  truth, 
I  do  believe  her,  though  I  know  she  lies, 
That  she  might  think  me  some  untutor'd  youth, 
Unskilful  in  the  world's  false  forgeries. 
Thus  vainly  thinking  that  she  thinks  me  young, 
Although  /  know  my  years  be  past  the  best, 
I  smiling  credit  her  false-speaking  tongue, 
Outfacing  faults  in  love  with  love's  ill  rest. 
But  wherefore  says  my  love  that  she  is  young  ? 
And  wherefore  say  not  I  that  I  am  old? 
O,  love's  best  habit  is  a  soothing  tongue, 
And  age.  in  love,  loves  not  to  have  years  told, 
Therefore  /  'II  lie  with  love,  and  love  with  me, 
Since  that  our  faults  in  love  thus  smothered  be." 

II.  Habit.     Bearing,  deportment. 

CXXXIX. — "Probably  connected  with  138;  goes  on  to  speak  of  the 
lady's  untruthfulness  ;  he  may  try  to  believe  her  professions  of  truth,  but 
do  not  ask  him  to  justify  the  wrong  she  lays  upon  his  heart"  (Dowden). 

3.  Wound  me  not  with  thine  eye.  Mai  one  quotes  R.  and  J.  ii.  4.  14  : 
"stabbed  with  a  white  wench's  black  eye;"  and  Steevens  adds  3  Hen. 
VI.  v.  6.  26  :  "  Ah,  kill  me  with  thy  weapon,  not  with  words  !" 

CXL. — "  In  connection  with  139;  his  lady's  'glancing  aside'  of  that 
sonnet  reappears  here,  'Bear  thine  eyes  straight.'  He  complains  of  her 
excess  of  cruelty"  (Dowden). 

6.  To  tell  me  so.     "  To  tell  me  thou  dost  love  me  "  (Malone). 

14.  Bear  thine  eyes  straight,  etc.  "  That  is,  as  it  is  expressed  in  93.  4, 
'  Thy  looks  with  me,  thy  heart  in  other  place '  "  (Malone). 

CXLI. — "  In  connection  with  140  ;  the  proud  heart  of  line  14  reappears 
here  in  line  12.  His  foolish  heart  loves  her,  and  her  proud  heart  pun- 
ishes his  folly  by  cruelty  and  tyranny.  Compare  with  this  sonnet  Dray- 
ton,  Idea,  29  "  (Dowden). 

8.  Sensual  feast.     Gratification  of  the  senses. 

9.  Five  wits.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  120. 

ii.  Who  leaves  unswayed,  etc.  "  My  heart  ceases  to  govern  me,  and  so 
leaves  me  no  better  than  the  likeness  of  a  man — a  man  without  a  heart — 
in  order  that  it  may  become  slave  to  thy  proud  heart"  (Dowden). 

14.  Pain.     "In  its  old  etymological  sense  of  punishment "  (Walker). 

CXLII. — "  In  connection  with  141 ;  the  first  line  takes  up  the  word  '  sin ' 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONATETS.  !79 

from  the  last  line  of  that  sonnet.  '  Those  whom  thine  eyes  woo7  carries 
on  the  complaint  of  139.  6,  and  140.  14"  (Dowden). 

6.  Their  scarlet  ornaments.     Cf.  Rdw.  III.  ii.  i  :  "His  cheeks  put  on 
their  scarlet  ornaments."    The  line  occurs  in  the  part  of  the  play  ascribed 
by  some  to  S.     See  on  94.  14  above. 

7.  Seal"1  d  false  bonds  of  love.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  511  : 

"  Pure  lips,  sweet  seals  in  my  soft  lips  imprinted, 
What  bargains  may  I  make,  still  to  be  sealing?" 

M.for  M.  iv.  i.  5  : 

"  But  my  kisses  bring  again, 
Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain;" 

and  M.  of  V.  ii.  6.6:  "  To  seal  love's  bonds  new  made,"  etc. 

13.  If  thon  dost  seek,  etc.  "  If  you  seek  for  love,  but  will  show  none," 
etc, 

CXLIII. — "Perhaps  the  last  two  lines  of  142  suggest  this.  In  that 
sonnet  Shakspere  says  'If  you  show  no  kindness,  you  can  expect  none 
from  those  you  love  ;'  here  he  says  '  If  you  show  kindness  to  me,  I  shall 
wish  you  success  in  your  pursuit  of  him  you  seek' "  (Dowden). 

4.  Pursuit.  Accented  on  the  first  syllable;  the  only  instance  in  S. 
CL  pursue  in  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  298 :  "  We  trifle  time  ;  I  pray  thee,  pursue 
sentence."  Walker  gives  many  examples  of  pursuit;  as  Heywood, 
Dntchess  of  Suffolk:  "The  eager  pursuit  of  our  enemies;"  Spanish 
Tragedy :  "Thy  negligence  in  pursuit  of  their  deaths  ;"  B.  and  F.,  Wit 
at  Several  Weapons,  v.  I  :  "  In  pursuit  of  the  match,  and  will  enforce 
her  ;"  Massinger,  Fatal  Dowry,  ii.  2  :  "  Forsake  the  pursuit  of  this  lady's 
honour,"  etc. 

8.  Not  prizing.    "  Not  regarding,  not  making  any  account  of"  (Malone). 
13.    Will.     "'Possibly,  as  Steevens  takes  it,  Will  Shakspere  ;  but  it 

seems  as  likely,  or  perhaps  more  likely,  to  be  Shakspere's  friend  *  Will ' 
[?  W.  H.].  The  last  two  lines  promise  that  Shakspere  will  pray  for  her 
success  in  the  chase  of  the  fugitive  (Will  ?),  on  condition  that,  if  success- 
ful, she  will  turn  back  to  him,  Shakspere,  her  babe  "  (Dowden). 

CXLIV.— "This  sonnet  appears  as  the  second  poem  in  The  Passion- 
ate Pilgrim  with  the  following  variations :  in  2,  'That  like;'  in  3,  'My 
better  "angel  ;'  in  4, '  My  worser  spirit ;'  in  6,  'from  my  side  ;'  in  8,  '/»/> 
pride  ;'  in  1 1,  '  For  being  both  to  me  ;'  in  13,  '  The  truth  I  shall  not  know.' 
Compare  with  this  sonnet  the  2Oth  of  Drayton's  Idea: 

'  An  evil  spirit,  your  beauty  haunts  me  still, 

*  *  *  *  * 
Which  ceaseth  not  to  tempt  me  to  each  ill ; 

•  \'»  -.#•».* 
Thus  am  I  still  provok'd  to  every  evil 

By  that  good-wicked  spirit,  sweet  angel-devil.' 

Compare  also  Astrophel  and  Stella,  5th  Song : 

4  Yet  witches  may  repent,  thou  art  far  worse  than  they, 
Alas,  that  I  am  forst  such  evill  of  thee  to  say, 
I  say  thou  art  a  Divill  though  cloth' d  in  Angel's  shining: 
For  thy  face  tempts  my  soule  to  leave  the  heaven  for  thee,   etc.     (Dowden). 


i8o  NOTES. 

2.  Suggest.     Tempt.     Cf.  Oth.  ii.  3.  358 : 

"When  devils  will  the  blackest  sins  put  on, 
They  do  suggest  at  first  with  heavenly  shows.'' 

See  also  Rich.  II.  pp.  153,  198. 

6.  From  my  side.  The  quarto  has  "sight  ;"  corrected  from  the  P.  P. 
version. 

ii.  From  me.     Away  from  me.     Gr.  158. 

14.    Till  my  bad  angel,  etc.     Dovvden  compares  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  365  : 

"  Prince  Henry.  For  the  women? 
Falstaff.  For  one  of  them,  she  is  in  hell  already,  and  burns  poor  souls." 

We  prefer  Hanmer's  reading  "burns,  poor  soul  "  (see  our  ed.  p.  172),  but 
the  allusion  in  burns  is  the  same  in  either  case. 

CXLV. — "The  only  sonnet  written  in  eight -syllable  verse.  Some 
critics,  partly  on  this  ground,  partly  because  the  rhymes  are  ill-managed, 
reject  it  as  not  by  Shakspere  "  (Dowden). 

13.  I  hate  from  hate,  etc.  "She  removed  the  words  I  hate  to  a  dis- 
tance from  hatred ;  she  changed  their  natural  import  ...  by  subjoining 
not  you"  (Malone).  He  compares  A*,  of  L.  1534-1537.  Steevens  would 
read  "I  hate — away  from  hate  she  flew,"  etc.;  that  is,  "having  pro- 
nounced the  words  I  hate,  she  left  me  with  a  declaration  in  my  favour." 
Dowden  is  inclined  to  accept  Malone's  explanation,  but  thinks  the  mean- 
ing may  possibly  be,  "  from  hatred  to  such  words  as  /  hate,  she  threw 
them  away." 

CXLVI. — 2.  Pressed  by  these  rebel  powers,  etc.  The  quarto  has  "My 
sinfull  earth  these  rebbell,"  etc.  The  corruption  was  doubtless  due,  as 
Malone  suggests,  to  the  compositor's  inadvertently  repeating  the  closing 
words  of  the  first  verse  at  the  beginning  of  the  second,  omitting  two 
syllables  that  belong  there.  Many  emendations  have  been  proposed : 
"  Fool'd  by  those"  (Malone),  "  Starv'd  by  the"  (Steevens),  "  Fool'd  by 
these"  (D.),  "  Foil'd  by  these"  (Palgrave),  "  Hemm'd  with  these"  (Fur- 
nivall),  "Thrall  to  these"  (anonymous),  "Slave  of  these"  (Cartwright), 
"  Leagued  with  these  "  (Brae),  etc.  Pressed  by  is  due  to  Dowden,  and  is 
on  the  whole  as  good  a  guess  as  any  that  has  been  made. 

Array  is  explained  by  some  as  =  clothe.  Massey  thinks  it  also  signi- 
fies "that  in  the  flesh  these  rebel  powers  set  their  battle  in  array  against 
the  soul."  Dr.  Ingleby,  in  his  pamphlet  The  Sonle  Arayed,  1872  (reprint- 
ed in  Shakespeare:  the  Man  and  the  Book,  Part  I.,  1877),  takes  the  ground 
that  array  (or  aray)  is  =abuse,  afflict,  ill-treat.  He  gives  several  exam- 
ples of  this  sense  from  writers  of  the  time.  It  is  not  found  elsewhere  in 
S.,  but  we  have  rayed  in  T.  of  S.  iii.  2.  54  and  iv.  I.  3,  where  Schmidt  ex- 
plains it  as  "defiled,  dirtied."  We  prefer  this  explanation  to  that  which 
makes  array=c\othe — which  seems  to  us  forced  and  unnatural  here — but 
we  should  prefer  Massey's  "set  their  battle  in  array  against"  to  either, 
if  any  other  example  of  this  meaning  could  be  found.  Perhaps  the  turn 
thus  given  to  the  military  sense  is  no  more  remarkable  than  the  liberties 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  X8i 

S.  takes  with  sundry  other  words ;  and  here  the  exigencies  of  the  rhyme 
might  justify  it.  For  the  rebel  powers  and  the  outward  walls,  cf.  R.  of  L. 
722: 

"She  says  her  subjects  with  foul  insurrection 

Have  batter'd  down  her  consecrated  wall, 

And  by  their  mortal  fault  brought  in  subjection 

Her  immortality,  and  made  her  thrall 

To  living  death  and  pain  perpetual." 

10.  Aggravate.     Increase. 

11.  Terms.     Walker  says:   "In  the  legal  and  academic  sense;  long 
periods  of  time,  opposed  to  hours."     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  v.  i.  90  :  "  the  wear- 
ing out  of  six  fashions,  which  is  four  terms,  or  two  actions." 

CXLVII. — "  In  connection  with  146  :  in  that  sonnet  the  writer  exhorts 
the  soul  to  feed  and  let  the  body  pine,  'within  be  fed,'  'so  shalt  thou  feed 
on  Death  ;'  here  he  tells  what  the  food  of  his  soul  actually  is — the  un- 
wholesome food  of  a  sickly  appetite.  Compare  Drayton,  Idea,  41,  •  Love's 
Lunacie ' "  (Dowden). 

5.  My  reason,  the  physician,  etc.  Malone  compares  M.  W.-\\.  I.  5: 
"  though  Love  use  Reason  for  his  physician,"  etc. 

7.  Approve.     Find  by  experience  (that).     Cf.  Oth.  ii.  3.  317  :  "I  have 
well  approved  it,"  etc. 

8.  Except.     Object  to,  refuse.     Palgrave  explains  thus :  "  I  now  dis- 
cover that  desire  which  reason  rejected  is  death  ;"  but  Dowden,  better, 
"desire  which  did  object  to  physic."     Physic  did  except  repeats  the  idea 
in  prescriptions  not  kept,  not  that  in  reason  .  .  .  hath  left  me,  as  Palgrave 
seems  to  suppose. 

9.  Past  cure,  etc.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  28:   "past  cure  is  still  past  care." 
As  Malone  notes,  it  was  a  proverbial  saying.     See  Holland's  Leaguer,  a 
pamphlet  published  in  1632:   "She  has  got  the  adage  in  her  mouth; 
Things  past  cure,  past  care." 

10.  Evermore  unrest.     Walker  compares  Coleridge,  Remorse,  v.  I : 

"hopelessly  deform'd 
By  sights  of  evermore  deformity." 

Sidney  (Arcadia,  book  v.)  has  "  the  time  of  my  ever  farewell  approach- 
eth." 

CXLVIIL— "  Suggested  apparently  by  the  last  two  lines  of  147  :  'I 
have  thought  thee  bright  who  art  dark ;'  '  what  eyes,  then,  hath  love  put 
in  my  head  ?'  "  (Dowden). 

^Censures.  Judges.  See  Much  Ado,  p.  139 ;  and  for  the  noun  (judg- 
ment), Macb.  p.  251,  or  Ham.  p.  190. 

8.  Love's  eye,  etc.  The  quarto  (followed  by  most  of  the  editors)  ends 
the  line  with  "  all  mens  :  no."  The  reading  in  the  text  was  suggested  by 
Lettsom,  and  is  adopted  by  D.,  the  Camb.  editors  ("  Globe  "  ed.),  and  H.t 
and  is  approved  by  St.  It  assumes  a  play  upon  eye  and  ay.  Lettsom 
afterwards  proposed  "that"  for  love  in  the  preceding  line,  and  H.  adopts 
that  reading  also. 

13.  O  cunning  Love!    "  Here  he  is  perhaps  speaking  of  his  mistress, 

26 


!82  XOTES. 

but  if  so,  he  identifies  her  with  '  Love,'  views  her  as  Love  personified, 
and  so  the  capital  L  is  right "  (Dowden). 

CXLIX. — "  Connected  with  148,  as  appears  from  the  closing  lines  of 
the  two  sonnets"  (Dowden). 

2.  Partake.  Take  part ;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in  this  sense  in 
S.,  but  cf.  the  noun  in  I  ffcn.  VI.  ii.  4.  100 :  "  your  partaker  Pole  "  (see 
our  ed.  p.  149). 

4.  All  tyrant.     Vocative  =-thou  who  art  a  complete  tyrant.     Malone 
conjectures  "  all  truant." 

8.  Present.     Instant,  immediate ;  as  very  often. 

CL. — "  Perhaps  connected  with  149  ;  •  worship  thy  defect '  in  that  son- 
net may  have  suggested  'with  insufficiency  my  heart  to  sway'  in  this" 
(Dowden). 

2.  Witk  insufficiency,  etc.     "  To  rule  my  heart  by  defects  "  (Dowden). 

5.  This  becoming  of  things  ill.    Malone  quotes  A.  and  C.  ii.  2.  243 : 

"  for  vilest  things 
Become  themselves  in  her,''  etc. 

7.    Warrantise  of  skill.     Surety  or  pledge  of  ability. 

CLT. — Omitted  by  Palgrave.  See  on  20  above.  Dowden  remarks : 
'*  Mr.  Massey,  with  unhappy  ingenuity,  misinterprets  thus :  *  The  mean- 
ing of  Sonnet  151,  when  really  mastered,  is  that  he  is  betrayed  into  sin 
with  others  by  her  image,  and  in  straying  elsewhere  he  is  in  pursuit  of 
her ;  it  is  on  her  account.' " 

3.  Cheater.     St.  takes  the  word  to  be  here  —escheator,  as  in  M.  W.  \.  3. 
77  (see  our  ed.  p.  138);  but,  as  Dowden  remarks,  the  more  obvious  mean- 
ing of  rogue  makes  better  sense. 

For  amiss,  see  on  35.  7  above. 

10.  Triumphant  prize.     "Triumphal  prize,  the  prize  of  his  triumph" 
(Walker). 

12.   To  stand,  etc.     Cf.  Mercutio's  speech  in  R.  and  J.  ii.  i.  22-29. 

CLII. — "Carries  on  the  thought  of  the  last  sonnet ;  she  cannot  justly 
complain  of  his  faults  since  she  herself  is  as  guilty  or  even  more  guilty" 
(Dowden). 

9.  Kindness.     Affection,  tenderness  ;  as  in  Much  Ado,  iii.  i.  113  : 

"  If  thou  dost  love,  my  kindness  shall  incite  thee 
To  bind  our  loves  up  in  a  holy  band." 

See  also  Much  Ado,  p.  118,  note  on  23. 

11.  To  enlighten  thee,  etc.     "  To  see  thee  in  the  brightness  of  imagina- 


tion I  gave  away  my  eyes  to  blindness,  made  myself  blind  "  (Dowden). 
13.  Perjured  I.     The  quarto  has  "  eye  "  for  /;  corrected  by  Sewell. 

CLIII. — Malone  remarks:  "This  and  the  following  sonnet  are  com- 
posed of  the  very  same  thoughts  differently  versified.  They  seem  to 
have  been  early  essays  of  the  poet,  who  perhaps  had  not  determined 


SHAKESPEARE'S  SONNETS.  jg^ 

which  he  should  prefer.  He  hardly  could  have  intended  to  send  them 
both  into  the  world." 

Herr  Krauss  (quoted  by  Dowden)  believes  these  sonnets  to  be  harm- 
less trifles,  written  for  the  gay  company  at  some  bathing-place. 

Herr  Hertzberg  (Jahrbuch  der  Deutschen  Shakespeare-Gesellschaft,  1878, 
pp.  158-162)  has  found  a  Greek  source  for  these  two  sonnets.  He  writes  : 
"Dann  ging  ich  an  die  palatinische  Anthologie  und  fand  daselbst  nach 
langem  Suchen  im  ix.  Buche  ('ETrt^i/criKra)  unter  N.  637  die  ersehnte 
Quelle.  .  .  .  Es  lautet  : 

Tu6]  I/TTO  ra9  TrXaTuvow   uTraXaii   T€Tpi//uet/o?   virixa 

evdev  "Epwc,  vt;/x0cu9   Aa/UTra^a   7rap#F/uevoc. 
N^0at  6'  uXX^Xr/o-i,  '  TI  /ueAXbjuei/  ;  ai'0e  5e  TOVTOJ 

<r/3tcro'a^uey,'   eiirov,  '  O/JLOV  irvp  upadir]?  /uepoTreof.' 
' 


Dowden  adds  :  "  The  poem  is  by  the  Byzantine  Marianus,  a  writer 
probably  of  the  fifth  century  after  Christ.  .The  germ  of  the  poem  is 
found  in  an  Epigram  by  Zenodotus  : 

T«  7Xux//a?  rov  "Epwra  Trapfi  Kpjji/r/o-tv  t'#r)Kei>; 
Oto/tiei/09    Trai/a-eii/  TOUTO  TO  irvp    udart.t 

How  Shakspere  became  acquainted  with  the  poem  of  Marianus  we  can- 
not tell,  but  it  had  been  translated  into  Latin  :  *  Selecta  Epigrammata, 
Basel,  1529,'  and  again  several  times  before  the  close  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

"  I  add  literal  translations  of  the  epigrams  :  '  Here  'neath  the  plane  trees, 
weighed  down  by  soft  slumber,  slept  Love,  having  placed  -his  torch  beside 
the  Nymphs.  Then  said  the  Nymphs  to  one  another,  "  Why  do  we  de- 
lay? Would  that  together  with  this  we  had  extinguished  the  fire  of 
mortals'  heart  !"  But  as  the  torch  made  the  waters  also  to  blaze,  hot  is 
the  water  the  amorous  Nymphs  (or  the  Nymphs  of  the  region  of  Eros|) 
draw  from  thence  for  their  bath.' 

"  *  Who  was  the  man  that  carved  [the  statue  of]  Love,  and  set  it  by  the 
fountains,  thinking  to  quench  this  fire  with  water  ?' 

"In  Surrey's  Complaint  of  the  Lover  Disdained  (Aldine  ed.  p.  12),  we 
read  of  a  hot  and  a  cold  well  of  love.  Shenstone  (Works,  ed.  1777,  vol.  i. 
p.  144)  versifies  anew  the  theme  of  this  and  the  following  sonnet  in  his 
'Anacreontic.'  Hermann  Isaac  suggests  that  the  valley-fountain  may 
signify  marriage,  but  this  will  hardly  agree  with  154.  12,  13." 

6.  Dateless.     Eternal.     Cf.  30.  6  above.     Lively  =  living;  as  in  F.  and 
A.  498,  etc. 

7.  Prove.     Find  by  trying,  find  to  be.     Cf.  72.  4  above. 

II.  Bath.  The  quarto  has  "bath,"  but  Steevens  suggests  that  we 
should  print  "  Bath  "  (the  name  of  the  English  city). 

j  4.  Eyes.     The  quarto  has  "  eye  ;"  corrected  in  the  ed.  of  1640. 

*  Epigrammata  (Jacob)  ix.  65. 

t  Epigrammata  i.  57. 

%  See  Hertzberg,  Sh.  Jahrbuch,  p.  161. 


184 


NOTES. 


CLIV.— 7.   The  general  of  hot  desire.     In  L.  L.  L.  iii.  1. 187  he  is  called 

"great  general 
Of  trotting  paritors.  ' 

Cf.  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  v.  I.  163:   "our  general  of  ebbs  and  flows" 
(Diana,  or  Luna). 

12.  Thrall.     Bondman.     Cf.  Macb.  iii.  6.  13  :  "the  slaves  of  drink  and 
thralls  of  sleep,"  etc. 

13.  1'his  by  that,  etc.     That  is,  the  statement  in  the  next  line. 


ADDENDA. 

THE  QUARTO  OF  1609  NOT  EDITED  OR  AUTHORIZED  BY  SHAKE- 
SPEARE.— In  the  Introduction  (see  p.  12  above),  we  have  expressed  the 
opinion  that  Shakespeare  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  publication  of  the 
Sonnets  in  1609.  It  has  since  occurred  to  us  that  this  is  put  beyond  a 
doubt  by  the  parentheses  at  the  end  of  Sonnet  126  in  that  edition  (see 
p.  174  above).  Shakespeare  could  not  have  inserted  these  parentheses, 
and  Thorpe  would  not  have  done  it  if  either  he  or  his  editor  had  been  in 
communication  with  Shakespeare.  In  that  case,  one  or  the  other  of  them 
would  have  asked  him  for  the  couplet  supposed  to  be  missing ;  and  he 
would  either  have  supplied  it  or  have  explained  that  the  poem  was  com- 
plete as  it  stood. 

It  is  evident,  moreover,  that  the  person  to  whom  this  sonnet  was 
addressed  was  not  privy  to  its  publication,  and  that  the  editor  could  not 
venture  to  ask  him  to  fill  it  out.  Is  it  probable,  then,  that  the  editor  was 
assisted  in  arranging  the  Sonnets  by  this  person  to  whom  he  dared  not 
appeal  for  the  reading  of  a  couplet  in  one  of  them  ?  Is  it  not  more  likely 
that,  as  I  have  suggested  (p.  12),  he  arranged  them  for  the  press  as  well 
as  he  could  from  what  he  happened  to  know  of  their  history  and  from  a 
study  of  the  poems  themselves  ? 

[Dr.  Furnivall,  in  a  private  note,  says  he  has  no  doubt  that  the  inser- 
tion of  the  marks  of  parenthesis  "  was  the  printer's  doings  ;"  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Tyler,  in  his  ed.  of  the  Sonnets  (London,  1890,  p.  286)  expresses 
the  same  opinion ;  but  it  is  extremely  improbable  that  the  printer  would 
resort  to  this  extraordinary  typographical  expedient  (absolutely  unprec- 
edented, so  far  as  our  observation  goes)  without  consulting  the  publisher, 
and  Thorpe  would  not  have  consented  to  it  if  he  could  have  avoided  it. 
It  is  clear  that  printer  or  publisher,  or  both,  considered  that  something 
was  evidently  wanting  which  could  not  be  supplied  and  must  be  ac- 
counted for. 

It  is  not  impossible  that  Sonnet  96  (see  p.  33,  foot-note,  above) 
may  have  been  imperfect  in  the  MS.  used  by  Thorpe,  and  that  he 
or  his  editor  eked  it  out  with  the  closing  couplet  of  36,  which  seemed 
to  fit  the  place  well  enough.  He  would  perhaps  have  filled  out  126 
in  a  similar  manner  if  he  could  have  found  a  couplet  suitable  for  the 
purpose. 

Dr.  Furnivall  says  that  our  " editor"  is  "  an  imaginary  being."     He  is 


ADDENDA.  ,g5 

in  no  wise  essential  to  our  theory.  If  anybody  chooses  to  regard  Thorpe 
as  his  own  editor,  be  it  so.  Mr.  Tyler  may  be  right  in  his  conjecture  (p. 
137)  that  copies  of  the  Sonnets  were  "made  in  MS.  for  distribution 
among  the  poet's  '  private  friends,'  "  and  that  "  one  of  these  copies  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Thorpe,  who  also  received  information  as  to  the  patron 
and  friend  of  the  'ever-living  poet,'  "  though  he  thought  it  expedient  to 
give  only  the  initials  of  the  person's  name  in  his  dedication.  We  cannot, 
however,  admit  (see  the  same  page  of  Mr.  Tyler's  book)  that  "  it  is  pos- 
sible that  Shakespeare  handed  the  MS.  to  Thorpe,  and  then,  through 
absence  from  London  or  other  cause,  may  have  had  nothing  further  to 
do  with  the  publication  of  the  book."  The  only  two  books,  so  far  as  we 
know,  ever  published  by  Shakespeare  himself  were  the  Venus  and  Adonis 
and  the  Lticrece.  These  have  dedications  of  his  own,  and  the  care  with 
which  they  are  printed  indicates  that  he  supervised  their  passage  through 
the  press.  If  he  had  had  anything  directly  to  do  with  bringing  out  the 
Sonnets  in  1609,  we  may  be  sure  that  these  poems  in  which  he  had  so 
peculiarly  personal  an  interest  would  have  been  dedicated  by  himself- — 
if  dedicated  at  all — to  the  person  who  was  their  "begetter,"  and  that  the 
printing  would  have  been  done  under  his  own  eye.  He  would  not  have 
allowed  it  to  be  done  while  he  was  absent  from  London,  but  would  have 
had  it  delayed  until  his  return.  After  waiting  for  so  many  years  before 
publishing  the  poems,  he  would  hardly  have  been  in  such  haste  to  place 
them  before  the  public  as  Mr.  Tyler's  conjecture  assumes.  Some  critics 
have  said  that  "the  correction  of  the  press  by  the  author  was  unknown 
in  Elizabethan  times ;"  but,  as  Mr.  Tyler  himself  tells  us  (p.  136,  foot- 
note), this  is  a  mistake.  At  the  end  of  Beeton's  Will  of  Wit  (1599)  we* 
find  this  note  :  "  What  faults  are  escaped  in  the  printing,  finde  by  dis- 
cretion, and  excuse  the  author,  by  other  worke  that  let  [hindered]  him 
from  attendance  to  the  presse."  The  1609  ed.  of  the  Sonnets  is  by  no 
means  so  well  printed  as  the  first  eds.  of  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrtce. 
The  many  bad  errors  in  it  (like  that  in  the  2d  line  of  146,  for  instance) 
and  the  parentheses  in  126  are  indisputable  evidence  that  there  was  no 
"  attendance  to  the  presse  "  on  the  part  of  the  author.] 

"SiR  WILLIAM  HERBERT"  (p.  11).— Dr.  Ingleby,  in  a  letter  dated 
Aug.  10,  1883,  commenting  upon  Mr.  Fleay's  reference  to  "  Sir  William 
Herbert,"  remarks  :  "  Herbert  was  either  Mr.  or  Lord.  *  Lord  Herbert  * 
(or  «  Harbert ')  was  his  common  designation ;  and  he  had  no  title  giving 
him  the  designation  of  '  Sir.'  " 

SONNET  LXX.  (p.  82). — If  this  sonnet  is  addressed  to  the  same  per- 
son as  33-35  (to  say  nothing  of  40-42),  it  is  unquestionably  out  of  place. 
Here  his  friend  is  said  to  present  "a  pure  unstained  prime/'  having 
passed  through  the  temptations  of  youth  either  "not  assailed  "by  them 
or  "victor  being  charged;"  but  in  33-35  we  learn  that  he  has  been  as- 
sailed and  has  not  come  off  victorious.  There  the  "  stain  "  and  "  disgrace 
of  his  "sensual  fault  "are  clearly  set  forth,  though  they  are  excused  and 
forgiven.  Here  the  young  man  is  the  victim  of  slander,  but  has  in  no 
wise  deserved  it.  If  he  is  the  same  young  man  who  is  so  plainly,  though 
sadly  and  tenderly,  reproved  in  33-35,  this  sonnet  must  have  been  writ- 


jg6  ADDENDA. 

ten  before  those.  One  broken  link  spoils  the  chain  ;  if  the  order  of  the 
poem  is  wrong  here,  it  may  be  elsewhere. 

[Mr.  Tyler's  attempt  (p.  229)  to  show  that  this  sonnet  is  not  out  cf 
place  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  "tricks  of  desperation"  to  which  a 
critic  may  be  driven  in  defence  of  his  theory:  "Slander  ever  fastens  on 
the  purest  characters.  His  friend's  prime  was  unstained,  such  an  affair 
as  that  with  the  poet's  mistress  not  being  regarded,  apparently,  as  involv- 
ing serious  moral  blemish.  Moreover,  there  had  been  forgiveness  ;  and 
the  special  reference  here  may  be  to  some  charge  of  which  Mr.  W.  H. 
was  innocent."  Whatever  this  charge  may  be,  the  "pure  unstained 
prime"  covers  the  period  referred  to  in  Sonnets  33-35  and  40-42  ;  and 
the  young  man's  conduct  then  appeared  a  "trespass"  and  a  "sin,"  a 
"shame"  and  a  "disgrace,"  to  the  friend  who  now,  according  to  Mr. 
Tyler,  sees  no  "serious  moral  blemish"  in  it.  Let  the  reader  compare 
the  poems  for  himself,  and  draw  his  own  conclusions.  Mr.  Tyler  has  the 
grace  to  add  to  what  we  have  quoted  above  :  "  But  (as  in  79)  Shake- 
speare can  scarcely  escape  the  charge  of  adulation."  Rather  than  be- 
lieve William  Shakespeare  guilty  of  "  adulation  "  so  ineffably  base  and 
sycophantic,  we  could  suppose,  as  some  do,  that  Bacon  wrote  the 
Sonnets.] 

"MR.  W.  H."  AND  THE  "DARK  LADY." — If  Mr.  Tyler  is  not  always 
happy  in  his  exegesis  of  particular  sonnets,  we  must  give  him  credit  for 
settling  two  questions  that  we  had^iven  up  as  beyond  all  hope  of  settle- 
ment— namely,  the  identity  of"  Mr.  W.  H.  "  and  of  the  "  dark  lady  "  with 
whom  both  he  and  Shakespeare  were  entangled. 

The  reasons  heretofore  given  for  assuming  that  "Mr.  W.  H."  was 
William  Herbert,  afterwards  Earl  of  Pembroke,  are  well  summarized  by 
Dowden  on  p.  23  above.  He  also  refers  to  the  objections  to  this  theory ; 
but  the  one  that  seems  to  us  the  most  serious  is  apparently  considered  to 
have  been  met  by  the  preceding  reference  to  the  attempts  made  in  1599 
to  find  a  wife  for  Herbert.  That  date,  however,  is  not  early  enough  to 
answer  the  purpose.  If  the  Sonnets  are  in  the  proper  order,  the  story  of 
the  rival  lovers  and  the  "  dark  lady  "  must  have  ended  before  1599,  when 
Sonnet  144,  summing  up  that  story,  was  printed  in  \\\z. Passionate  Pil- 
grim ;  but  the  first  seventeen  sonnets,  urging  "Mr.  Wr.  H."  to  marry, 
must  have  been  written  even  earlier — in  1597  or  1598.  Herbert  was  born 
in  1580,  and  it  is  improbable  on  the  face  of  it  that  Shakespeare  would 
write  seventeen  sonnets  to  urge  a  youth  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  to  mar- 
ry. But,  as  Mr.  Tyler  informs  us  (p.  45),  it  appears  from  letters  preserved 
in  the  Record  Office  that  "in  1597  the  parents  of  William  Herbert  were 
engaged  in  negotiations  for  his  marriage  to  Bridget  Vere,  daughter  of  the 
Earl  of  Oxford,  and  granddaughter  of  the  great  Lord  Burleigh."  The 
course  of  the  parental  match-making  ran  smooth  for  a  while,  but  was 
soon  checked  by  obstacles  not  clearly  explained  in  the  correspondence. 
Shakespeare  may  have  written  the  seventeen  sonnets  at  the  request  of 
Herbert's  mother,  the  Countess  of  Pembroke.* 

*  Mr.  Tyler  reminds  us  that  Grant  White,  in  his  first  ed.  of  Shakespeare  (1865)  said 
of  Sonnets  1-17  :  "There  seems  to  be  no  imaginable  reason  for  seventeen  such  poetical 


ADDENDA.  ,g7 

Dowden  and  others  have  assumed  that  the  father  of  "  Mr.  W.  H." 
must  have  been  dead  at  the  time  when  the  poet  wrote  in  Sonnet  13  : 

"  Dear  my  love,  you  know 
You  had  a  father  ;  let  your  son  say  so." 

But  Herbert's  father  lived  until  1601.  The  reference  in  the  sonnet,  how- 
ever, is  simply  to  the  fact  that  the  young  man  owed  his  existence  to  his 
father  ;  and  this  explains  the  use  of  the  past  tense  :  "  Your  father  begot 
you  ;  beget  a  son  in  your  turn." 

The  only  other  objection  to  identifying  "  Mr.  W.  H."  with  Herbert 
which  Dowden  mentions — the  improbability  that  a  youth  of  eighteen  or 
nineteen  could  be  the  "better  angel"  of  Sonnet  144 — disappears  when 
we  learn  who  the  "dark  lady"  was,  and  what  were  her  relations  with 
Herbert. 

Mr.  Tyler  shows  that  this  "  woman  coloured  ill  "  (cf.  Dowden's  descrip- 
tion of  her,  p.  17  above)  was  almost  certainly  Mary  Fitton,  maid  of  honour 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  mistress  of  Herbert,  by  whom  she  had  a  child  in 
1601.  The  queen  could  not  overlook  the  offence,  and  sent  the  father  to 
the  Fleet  Prison.  He  was  soon  released,  but  appears  never  to  have  re- 
gained the  royal  favour. 

There  is  no  direct  evidence  to  connect  Shakespeare  with  Mistress 
Fitton ;  but  we  find  that  she  was  on  somewhat  intimate  terms  with  a 
member  of  his  theatrical  company,  that  is,  the  Lord  Chamberlain's 
Company,  and  was  probably  acquainted  with  other  members  of  it.  In 
1600  William  Kemp,  the  clown  in  the  company,  dedicated  his  Nine  dates 
wonder  to  "Mistris  Anne  Fitton,  Mayde  of  Honour  to  most  sacred 
Mayde,  Royal  Queene  Elizabeth."  As  Elizabeth  certainly  had  no  maid 
of  honour  named  Anne  Fitton  in  1600,*  while  Man'  Fitton  held  such 
office  from  1595  to  1601,  either  Kemp  or  his  printer  probably  made  a 
mistake  in  the  lady's  Christian  name  in  the  dedication.  As  Mr.  Tyler 
suggests,  the  form  "  Marie  "  might  be  so  written  as  to  be  easily  mistaken 
for  "  Anne." 

There  is  much  other  circumstantial  evidence  that  Mistress  Mary  was 
the  "  dark  lady ;"  and  it  is  strongly  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  her 
personal  appearance  was  in  keeping  with  the  poet's  descriptions.  A 
statue  of  her  still  exists  as  a  part  of  the  family  monument  of  the  Fittons 
in  Gawsworth  church,  Cheshire  ;  and  the  remnants  of  colour  upon  it  show 
that  she  had  "the  dark  complexion,  together  with  the  black  hair  and 
eyes,  so  graphically  depicted  in  the  second  series  of  Sonnets."  The  face 
also  accords  with  Shakespeare's  repeated  assertion  that  the  lady  was 
not  beautiful ;  "  and  that  the  lips  and  the  eyes  were  features  expressing 
the  predominance  of  sensual  passion  "  is  plain  enough.  A  portrait  from 
a  photograph  of  this  statue  is  given  on  p.  6  above. 

petitions.  But  that  a  mother  should  be  thus  solicitous  is  not  strange,  or  that  she  should 
long  to  see  the  beautiful  children  of  her  own  beautiful  offspring.  The  desire  for  grand- 
children, and  the  love  of  them,  seem  sometimes  even  stronger  than  parental  yearning. 
But  I  hazard  this  conjecture  with  little  confidence." 

*  Mary  had  a  sister  Anne,  but  the  parish  register  of  St.  Dunstan's,  Stepney,  proves 
that  the  latter  was  married  to  John  Newdigate  on  the  3Oth  of  April,  1587.  She  could 
not,  therefore,  have  been  maid  of  honour  in  1600. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS  AND    PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 


acceptable  (accent),  130. 
action  (legal),  152. 
adder's  sense,  167. 
admire  (—wonder  at),  172. 
adulterate,  171. 
advance  (=raise),  156. 
advised  respects,  146. 
aggravate,  181. 
air  and  fire  (elements),  145. 
alchemy  (metaphor),  141. 
all  tyrant  (vocative),  182. 
allow  (—approve),  167. 
amiss  (noun1,  14",  182. 
anchored  (metaphor),  177. 
antique  (accent),  135,  150. 
applying  fears  to  hopes,  17^ 
approve  (  =find  by  experi 

ence),  181. 
aray,  180. 

argument  (—theme),  1 57,^64 
array,  180. 

art  (—letters),  152,  156. 
as  (—that1,  156. 
aspect  (accent),  138. 
astonished,  159. 
attaint  (  —  blame),  157. 
attainted,  159. 
authorizing  (accent),  141. 
ay  (play  upon?),  177. 
ay  me!  144. 

bankrupt  (spelling),  153. 

bated,  151. 

bath  (=Bath?),  183. 

becoming  of,  175,  182. 

begetter,  127. 

bereft  (= taken  away),  130. 

beshrew,  176. 

besides  (preposition),  137. 

bestow  (=stow),  138. 

bevel,  171. 

bide  each  check,  150. 

black  not  counted  fair,  174. 

blenches  (noun),  166. 

blunt  (—clumsy),  164. 

bore  the  canopy,  172. 

both  twain,  144. 

bower,  175. 


brave  (=beautiful\  132. 
breathers  of  this  world,  157. 

days  outworn,  153. 
dead  seeing,  153. 

builded,  172. 

dear  religious  love,  140. 

,  172. 

dearest  (—most  intense',  143. 

came  (^became),  176. 

debate  (=contend>,  132. 

candles  (=stars),  136. 

debate  (^contest),  i6~>. 

canker  (=worm),  141,  154, 

dedicated  words,  157. 

161,  163. 

defeat  (—destroy),  151. 

)»  T4S- 

canker-blooms,  148. 

defeated  (—defrauded),  135. 

141. 

captain  (adjective),  147. 

delves  the  parallels,  151. 

82. 

carcanet,  147. 

depart  (transitive),  131. 

censures  (^judges),  181. 

deserts  (rhyme),  134,  146, 

ceremony  (metre),  137. 

154- 

177. 

cheater,  182. 

determinate,  159. 

150. 

check  (^rebuff),  150. 

determination  (  —  end),  132. 

s,  17^. 

cherubins,  168. 

disabled(quadrisyllable),i52. 

sxperi- 

chest  (metaphor),  152. 

discloses  (^uncloses),  148- 

chide  with,  167. 

dispense  with,  167. 

chopped,  151. 

distillation  (—perfume),  130. 

57^64. 

chronicle,  164. 

doubting  (=fearing),  155. 

clean  (adverb),  155. 

dressings,  172. 

3. 

closure  of  my  breast,  146. 

dullness  (—drowsiness),  149. 

compare  (noun),  136,  141. 

compile   (=compose),   156, 

eager  (=tart),  170. 

158- 

earth  and  water  (elements), 

compounded  with  clay,  154. 
conceit  (  =  conception),  132. 

145. 
edge  of  doom,  169. 

41. 

condemned  for  thy  hand,  162. 
confined  (accent),  165. 

eisel,  167. 
enlarged  (=set  free),  154. 

confound   (  =destroy  ),  130, 

entitled  in  thy  parts,  143. 

151,  153. 

envy  (accent),  175. 

53. 

consecrate,  155. 

ever-fixed  mark,  169. 

converted  (^changed),  146. 

evermore  (adjective1,  181. 

converted  (=  turned  away), 

except  (—refuse),  181. 

i  jo,  131. 

exchange,  166. 

convertest  (rhyme),  131,  133. 

expense(=expenditure\  161, 

130. 

count  (—account),  129. 

'75- 

J37- 

counterfeit  (rhyme),  148. 
couplement,  136. 

expense  (—loss),  140. 
expiate  (^faring  to  an  end), 

courses  (—years),  150. 

136. 

coward  conquest  of  wretch's 
knife,  155. 

extern,  173. 
eye  of  heaven,  135. 

,  174. 

critic  (=carper),  167. 

crooked  (—malignant),  150. 

fair(=beauty),  134.  '35.  '53i 

curious  (—fastidious),  143. 

158. 
false  in  rolling  (eyes),  135. 

damasked,  175- 
dateless  (^endless),  140,  183. 

fame  (verb),  158- 
famished  for  a  look,  145. 

190 


INDEX   OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


favour  (^countenance),  168, 

instinct  (accent),  147. 

no  such  matter,  159. 

173. 

insults  o'er,  166. 

noted  weed,  155. 

fell  arrest,  155. 

intend,  139. 

fester  (=rot),  161. 

invention    (  —imagination  ), 

obsequious  (=devoted),  173. 

fickle  hour,  174. 

M3>  tSS- 

obsequious  (  —  funereal),  14;. 

filed,  158. 

o  er-green  (verb),  167. 

filled  up  his  line,  159. 

jacks,  175. 

one  reckoned  none,  177. 

fitted,  170. 

owe  (^possess),  135,  154. 

five  wits.  178. 

keeps  (=guards),  176. 

fleets  (—fleetest),  135. 

key  (pronunciation),  147. 

pain  (^punishment),  178. 

flourish  (noun),  151. 

kindness  (=:affection),  182. 

part  his  function,  168- 

foison,  148. 

partake  (—take  part),  182. 

fond  (—  foolish),  129. 

lace  (^embellish),  153. 

parts  of  me,  140. 

fond  on,  158. 

lame  (figurative?),  142,  159. 

past  cure,  past  care,  181. 

fools  of  time,  172. 

latch  (=catch),  168. 

patent,  159. 

for  (=  because),  143,  148,  165. 

lay  (=lay  on),  163. 

peace  of  you,  155. 

for  (=for  fear  of),  147. 

learned's  wing,  156. 

perfect'st,  147. 

for  fear  of  trust,  137. 

leese,  130. 

perspective,  137. 

fore,  130. 

level  (=aim),  169. 

phoenix,  135. 

forlorn  (accent),  141. 

like  as,  150,  170. 

pointing  (  —  appointing),  133. 

fortify  (intransitive),  151. 

like  of  hearsay,  136. 

policy,  that  heretic,  172. 

free  (=liberal),  129. 

limbecks,  170. 

poverty  (concrete),  144. 

frequent  (=intimate),  169. 
from  (=away  from),  i8:>. 

lines  of  life,  134. 
live  (^subsist),  129. 

present  (-instant),  182. 
pressed  by  these  rebel  pow- 

fury (—inspiration),  163. 

lively  (=living),  183. 

ers,  etc.,  1  80. 

lovely  argument,  157. 

pretty,  144. 

gaudy  (=gay),  128. 

lover  (masculine),  140. 

prevent  (^anticipate),  163. 

gaze  (^object  of  gaze),  130. 

love's  fresh  case,  166. 

pricked  (—marked),  136. 

general  of  hot  desire,  183. 

prime  (^spring),  162. 

go  (=walk),  147. 

maiden  gardens,  134. 

prizing  (^regarding),  179. 

gored  mine   own  thoughts, 

main  of  light,  150. 

proud-pied  April,  162. 

1  66. 

make  faults,  141. 

prove  (—find;,  1-54,  183. 

gracious  (  =full  of  grace  ), 

makeless,  131. 

purge,  170. 

151. 

makest  waste  in  niggarding, 

pursuit  (accent^  179. 

gracious  (trisyllable),  176. 

128. 

greeing,  168. 

many's  looks.  160. 

qualify  (  —  temper),  166. 

grind  (=whet),  167. 

map  of  days  outworn,  153. 

quest  (=inquest),  145. 

gust  (=taste),  1  68. 

marigold,  138. 

question  make,  132. 

marjoram,  162. 

quietus,  174. 

habif(=bearing),  178. 

Mars  his  sword,  149. 

happies,  130. 

master  (=possess),  164. 

rack  (=rclouds),  141. 

heavy  Saturn,  162. 

master-mistress  of  my  pas- 

ragged (—rugged),  130. 

hell  of  time,  170. 

sion,  135. 

rank  (=sick),  170. 

his  (=its),  131,  133,  iS5»  158, 

meetness,  170. 

rearward,  '160. 

174. 

melancholy  (metre),  145. 

record  (accent),  150,  172. 

hope  of  orphans,  162. 

minion  (=darling),  174. 

recured,  145. 

horse  (plural),  160. 
hours  (dissyllable),  130. 

misprision,  159. 
mixed  with  seconds,  173. 

region  (=air),  141. 
remembered  (  -  reminded  ), 

hues  (—  Hughes?),  135. 
hugely  politic,  172. 

moan  the  expense,  140. 
mock    their    own    presage, 

175. 
render  (noun),  173. 

hungry  ocean,  152. 

165.                                            render  (=surrender),  174. 

husbandry,  132. 

modern  (—ordinary),  158.          reserve  (=preserve),  140- 

moiety,  145. 

reserve  their  character,  158- 

I  hate  from  hate  away  she 
threw,  i8j. 

more  and  less,  161. 
motley  (=jester),  166. 

respect  (=affection),  142. 
respect     (  ^consideration  ), 

idle  rank,  171. 

mourning  (play  upon),  176. 

139,  146. 

imaginary  (  —imaginative  ), 

mouthed  graves,  156. 

re  sty,  163. 

!39- 

music  (personal),  175. 

retention,  171. 

imprisoned  absence  of  your 

music  to  hear,  130. 

revolt  (^faithlessness),  162. 

liberty,  150. 

mutual  render,  173. 

rondure,  137. 

in  their  wills,  171. 

ruinate,  131. 

incertairrties.  165. 

nativity  (=child),  150. 

ruined  choirs,  154. 

indigest,  168. 

new-fangled,  160. 

ruth  (—pity),  176. 

INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND   PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


satire  (=satirist),  163. 

successive,  175. 

took  (—taken),  155. 

scarlet  ornaments,  179. 

sufferance  (—suffering),  150. 

tottered  (  =tattered  ),   128, 

sealed  false  bonds  of  love,  179. 

suggest  (—tempt),  i8->. 

'39- 

seat,  144. 

suit  thy  pity  like,  176. 

translate  (=transform),  161. 

seconds  (—flour),  173. 
self-substantial  fuel,  128. 

suited  (=clad»,  175. 
sum  my  count,  129. 

travail  (spelling),  157. 
triumphant  prize,  182. 

sense  (plural),  162,  167. 

summer's  front,  164. 

twire,  139. 

sense  (=reason).  141. 

summer's  story,  162. 

sensual  feast,  178. 

supposed  as  forfeit,  165. 

uneared,  129. 

separable  spite,  142. 

surly,  sullen  bell,  154. 

unfair  (verb),  130. 

sessions  of  thought,  140. 

suspect  (noun),  153. 

unkind  (noun?),  177. 

set  a  form  upon,  159. 

swart-complexioned,  139. 

unknown  minds,  169. 

set  me  light,  1  59. 

sweet  thief,  142. 

unperfect.  137. 

several  plot.  177. 

swift  extremity,  147. 

unrespected,  144,  148. 

shady  stealth,  156. 

sympathized,  157. 

unthnft,  131,  132. 

she  (=woman),  175. 

use  (--interest),  130,  176. 

simplicity  (—folly),  152. 
slandering  creation,  175. 

table  (^tablet),  137. 
tables  (—note-book),  171. 

user  (=  possessor),  131. 

soil  (=solution),  153. 

tallies  (noun),  171. 

vade,  148. 

spacious  (trisyllable),  176. 

tame  to  sufferance,  150. 

violet  past  prime,  132. 

special  (adverb),  147. 

tasters,  168. 

spirit  (monosyllable',  157. 

tell  (—count),  140. 

warrantise  of  skill,  182. 

stain  (intransitive),  141. 

that  (==so  that),  155,  172. 

whenas,  146. 

state  (noun),  161,  172. 

thorns,  standing  on,  163. 

where  (=to  where),  145. 

statute,  176. 
steal  from  his  figure,  164. 

thought  (—  melancholy),  142, 
145. 

where-through,  138. 
whether  (monosyllable),  1  50. 

steepy  night,  151. 

thrall  (—bondman),  184. 

Will   (play  upon),  149,  176, 

stelled,  137. 

thriftless    (  —unprofitable  ), 

179. 

strained    (  =overwrought  ), 

129. 

wink  (—shut  the  eyes),  144, 

157. 

tie  up  envy,  154. 

149. 

strains  of  woe,  160. 

time  (=the  world),"  169. 

without  all,  153. 

strange  (—stranger),  148. 

time  removed,  161. 

wooed  of  time,  153. 

strangely,  166. 

Time's  chest,  152. 

world-without-end,  149. 

strangle  (acquaintance),  159. 

Time's  fool,  169. 

worth  (  ^stellar  influence  ), 

store,  132,  133,  i53>  177- 

time's  pencil.  134. 

169. 

stretched  metre,  134. 

times  (—generations),  132. 

wrack  (rhyme),  174. 

suborned  informer,  174. 

times  in  hope,  151. 

wracked,  157. 

subscribe  (-yield),  165. 

tires  (—head-dresses),  148. 

wrackful,  152. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

WITH   NOTES  BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  A.M. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

The  Tempest. 

Julius  Caesar. 

Hamlet. 

As  You  Like  it. 

Henry  the  Fifth. 

Macbeth. 

Henry  the  Eighth. 

A  3Iidsummer-  Night's  Bream. 

Richard  the  Second. 

Richard  the  Third. 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

Othello. 

Twelfth  Night. 

The  Winter's  Tale. 

King  John. 

Henry  IT.    Part  I. 

Henry  IV.    Part  II. 


King  Lear. 

The  Taming  of  the  Shrew. 

All  >s  Well  That  Ends  Well. 

Coriolanus. 

Comedy  of  Errors. 

Cymbeline. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

Measure  for  Measure. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

Love's  Labour 's  Lost. 

Timon  of  Athens. 

Henry  VI.    Part  I. 

Henry  VI.    Part  IF. 

Henry  VI.    Part  III. 

Troilus  and  Cressida. 

Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre. 

The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 

Poems. 

Sonnets. 

Titus  Audronicns. 


Illustrated.    i6mo,  Cloth,  56  cents  per  vol. ;  Paper,  40  cents  per  vol. 

FRIENDLY   EDITION,  complete  in  20  vols.,  i6mo,  Cloth,  $30  oo; 
Half  Calf,  $60  oo.     (Sold  only  in  Sets.) 

In  the  preparation  of  this  edition  of  the  English  Classics  it  has  been 
the  aim  to  adapt  them  for  school  and  home  reading,  in  essentially  the 
same  way  as  Greek  and  Latin  Classics  are  edited  for  educational  pur- 
poses. The  chief  requisites  are  a  pure  text  (expurgated,  if  necessary), 
and  the  notes  needed  for  its  thorough  explanation  and  illustration. 

Each  of  Shakespeare's  plays  is  complete  in  one  volume,  and  is  pre- 
ceded by  an  Introduction  containing  the  '*  History  of  the  Play,"  the 
"  Sources  of  the  Plot,"  and  "  Critical  Comments  on  the  Play." 

From  HORACE  HOWARD  FURNESS,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Editor  of  the  "  New 

Variorum  Shakespeare" 

No  one  can  examine  these  volumes  and  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
conscientious  accuracy  and  scholarly  completeness  with  which  they  are 
edited.  The  educational  purposes  for  which  the  notes  are  written  Mr. 
Rolfe  never  loses  sight  of,  but  like  "a  well-experienced  archer  hits  the 
mark  his  eve  doth  level  at." 


Rolfe's  Shakespeare. 


From  F.  J.  FURNIVALL,  Director  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  London. 
The  merit  I  see  in  Mr.  Rolfe's  school  editions  of  Shakspere's  Plays 
over  those  most  widely  used  in  England  is  that  Mr.  Rolfe  edits  the  plays 
as  works  of  a  poet,  and  not  only  as  productions  in  Tudor  English.  Some 
editors  think  that  all  they  have  to  do  with  a  play  is  to  state  its  source 
and  explain  its  hard  words  and  allusions ;  they  treat  it  as  they  would  a 
charter  or  a  catalogue  of  household  furniture,  and  then  rest  satisfied. 
But  Mr.  Rolfe,  while  clearing  up  all  verbal  difficulties  as  carefully  as  any 
Dryasdust,  always  adds  the  choicest  extracts  he  can  find,  on  the  spirit 
and  special  "note"  of  each  play,  and  on  the  leading  characteristics  of  its 
chief  personages.  He  does  not  leave  the  student  without  help  in  getting 
at  Shakspere's  chief  attributes,  his  characterization  and  poetic  power. 
And  every  practical  teacher  knows  that  while  every  boy  can  look  out 
hard  words  in  a  lexicon  for  himself,  not  one  in  a  score  can,  unhelped, 
catch  points  of  and  realize  character,  and  feel  and  express  the  distinctive 
individuality  of  each  play  as  a  poetic  creation. 

From  Prof.  EDWARD  DOWDEN,  LL.D.,  of  the  University  of  Dublin,  Au- 
thor of  "  Shakspere :  His  Mind  and  Art" 

I  incline  to  think  that  no  edition  is  likely  to  be  so  useful  for  school  and 
home  reading  as  yours.  Your  notes  contain  so  much  accurate  instruc- 
tion, with  so  little  that  is  superfluous;  you  do  not  neglect  the  aesthetic 
study  of  the  play  ;  and  in  externals,  paper,  type,  binding,  etc.,  you  make 
a  book  "  pleasant  to  the  eye  "  (as  well  as  "  to  be  desired  to  make  one 
wise  ") — no  small  matter,  I  think,  with  young  readers  and  with  old. 

From  EDWIN  A.  ABBOTT,  M.A.,  Author  of  "  Shakespearian  Grammar" 
I  have  not  seen  any  edition  that  compresses  so  much  necessary  infor- 
mation into  so  small  a  space,  nor  any  that  so  completely  avoids  the  com- 
mon faults  of  commentaries  on  Shakespeare — needless  repetition,  super- 
fluous explanation,  and  unscholar-like  ignoring  of  difficulties. 

From   HIRAM  CORSON,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  English 
Literature,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

In  the  way  of  annotated  editions  of  separate  plays  of  Shakespeare,  for 
educational  purposes,  I  know  of  none  quite  up  to  Rolfe's. 


Rolfe's  Shakespeare. 


From  Prof.  F.  J.  CHILD,  of  Harvard  University. 

I  read  your  "  Merchant  of  Venice  "  with  my  class,  and  found  it  in  every 
respect  an  excellent  edition.  I  do  not  agree  with  my  friend  White  in  the 
opinion  that  Shakespeare  requires  but  few  notes — that  is,  if  he  is  to  be 
thoroughly  understood.  Doubtless  he  may  be  enjoyed,  and  many  a  hard 
place  slid  over.  Your  notes  give  all  the  help  a  young  student  requires, 
and  yet  the  reader  for  pleasure  will  easily  get  at  just  what  he  wants. 
You  have  indeed  been  conscientiously  concise. 

Under  date  of  July  25,  1879,  Prof.  CHILD  adds:  Mr.  Rolfe's  editions 
of  plays  of  Shakespeare  are  very  valuable  and  convenient  books,  whether 
for  a  college  class  or  for  private  study.  I  have  used  them  with  my 
students,  and  I  welcome  every  addition  that  is  made  to  the  series.  They 
show  care,  research,  and  good  judgment,  and  are  fully  up  to  the  time  in 
scholarship.  I  fully  agree  with  the  opinion  that  experienced  teachers 
have  expressed  of  the  excellence  of  these  books. 

From  Rev.  A.  P.  PEABODY,  D.D.,  Professor  in  Harvard  University. 

I  regard  your  own  work  as  of  the  highest  merit,  while  you  have  turned 
the  labors  of  others  to  the  best  possible  account.  I  want  to  have  the 
higher  classes  of  our  schools  introduced  to  Shakespeare  chief  of  all,  and 
then  to  other  standard  English  authors  ;  but  this  cannot  be  done  to  ad- 
vantage unless  under  a  teacher  of  equally  rare  gifts  and  abundant  leisure, 
or  through  editions  specially  prepared  for  such  use.  I  trust  that  you 
will  have  the  requisite  encouragement  to  proceed  with  a  work  so  hap- 
pily begun. 

From  the  Examiner  and  Chronicle,  N.  Y, 

We  repeat  what  we  have  often  said,  that  there  is  no  edition  of  Shake- 
speare which  seems  to  us  preferable  to  Mr.  Rolfe's.  As  mere  specimens 
of  the  printer's  and  binder's  art  they  are  unexcelled,  and  their  other 
merits  are  equally  high.  Mr.  Rolfe,  having  learned  by  the  practical  ex- 
perience of  the  class-room  what  aid  the  average  student  really  needs  in 
order  to  read  Shakespeare  intelligently,  has  put  just  that  amount  of  aid 
into  his  notes,  and  no  more.  Having  said  what  needs  to  be  said,  he  stops 
there.  It  is  a  rare  virtue  in  the  editor  of  a  classic,  and  we  are  propor- 
tionately grateful  for  it. 


Rolfe's  Shakespeare. 


From  the  N.  Y.  Times. 

This  work  has  been  done  so  well  that  it  could  hardly  have  been  done 
better.  It  shows  throughout  knowledge,  taste,  discriminating  judgment, 
and,  what  is  rarer  and  of  yet  higher  value,  a  sympathetic  appreciation  of 
the  poet's  moods  and  purposes. 

From  the  Pacific  School  Journal,  San  Francisco. 

This  edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays  bids  fair  to  be  the  most  valuable 
aid  to  the  study  of  English  literature  yet  published.  For  educational 
purposes  it  is  beyond  praise.  Each  of  the  plays  is  printed  in  large  clear 
type  and  on  excellent  paper.  Every  difficulty  of  the  text  is  clearly  ex- 
plained by  copious  notes.  It  is  remarkable  how  many  new  beauties  one 
may  discern  in  Shakespeare  with  the  aid  of  the  glossaries  attached  to 
these  books. .  .  .  Teachers  can  do  no  higher,  better  work  than  to  incul- 
cate a  love  for  the  best  literature,  and  such  books  as  these  will  best  aid 
them  in  cultivating  a  pure  and  refined  taste. 

From  the  Christian  Union,  N.  K 

Mr.  W.  J.  Rolfe's  capital  edition  of  Shakespeare  ...  by  far  the  best  edi- 
tion for  school  and  parlor  use.  We  speak  after  some  practical  use  of  it 
in  a  village  Shakespeare  Club.  The  notes  are  brief  but  useful ;  and  the 
necessary  expurgations  are  managed  with  discriminating  skill. 

From  the  Academy,  London. 

Mr.  Rolfe's  excellent  series  of  school  editions  of  the  Plays  of  Shake- 
speare .  .  .  they  differ  from  some  of  the  English  ones  in  looking  on  the 
plays  as  something  more  than  word  -  puzzles.  They  give  the  student 
helps  and  hints  on  the  characters  and  meanings  of  the  plays,  while  the 
word-notes  are  also  full  and  posted  up  to  the  latest  date.  .  .  .  Mr.  Rolfe 
also  adds  to  each  of  his  books  a  most  useful  "  Index  of  Words  and 
Phrases  Explained." 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

"  A  ny  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  Price. 


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